#and they happen to be Hozier coded

[starkholme]

The funny thing is that no one mentions the fact that DAW likes to be the "see good in all people" sunshine/powerful second wife of a grumpy guy who lost everything/keeps looking for revenge

LIKE NO ONE MENTIONS ????

[proxythe]

as long as ur my partner in time >_>

[vellichorius]

listening to From Eden, just a moment ago i went 'hey! the sound of this song reminds me of aziracrow ! which one is this again ?' and i checked and i realised i'm listening to my ineffable husbands playlist.

[theosang3ls]

Crawling back to you

inspired by Hozier’s version of “Do I wanna know?”

pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Reader

summary: Mattheo is your new neighbour who quickly becomes obsessed with you and finds rather creative ways to talk to you

warnings: mentions of blood, fluff

A/N: in my mind every single song by Hozier is Mattheo coded. I had so much fun writing this! English is not my first language! Hope you enjoy reading this!

𖤓°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𖤓°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𖤓°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𖤓°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𖤓°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𖤓°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You stood quietly over Mattheo, his left palm bloodied and trembling ever so slightly beneath your touch. The harsh scent of disinfectant clung to the air between you as you dabbed at his wound with a cotton pad, each movement slow, deliberate, and tender. Your fingers moved carefully, reserved in their precision, as though he were made of fragile porcelain and might shatter under the weight of anything more. The sting of the antiseptic hitting his torn skin made Mattheo hiss under his breath, his jaw tightening—but the pain barely registered compared to the storm of emotion twisting in his chest.

He couldn't take his eyes off you. There you were: utterly focused, lips pressed into a firm, concentrated line, your brow slightly furrowed as you worked. Your hair was tied back in a messy ponytail, a few loose strands falling across your cheeks, catching the light in a way that made you seem almost otherworldly. You were breathtaking, ethereal, and completely unaware of just how beautiful you looked like that—lost in the task of patching him up with a quiet determination that made his heart ache.

Since the moment Mattheo had first seen you, since his gaze had landed on your soft, unassuming figure in the hallway of your apartment block, something inside him had shifted. You had smiled at him— just a polite, neighborly smile—but it had been enough to snare his thoughts entirely. He hadn't believed in fate, not until the day he realized he'd moved into the unit just two doors down from yours. And now, sitting on your worn-in couch, his injured hand in yours, it felt like the universe had led him here with purpose. You were kind, graceful, quietly radiant— a walking contradiction to the chaos that often lived inside him. And he wanted to stay in this moment for as long as you'd let him.

"You're all patched up," you murmured, voice soft as you smoothed the final fold of the bandage over his palm. Your touch lingered for a moment longer than necessary, gentle and warm. Then you looked up at him, a small smile pulling at your lips. "Can I get you anything else?"

Mattheo's heart stuttered. That smile—god, that smile—was enough to make him weak. He felt something in his chest unravel. "Just a glass of water," he replied, offering a smile of his own, the kind he didn't give to many. It felt unfamiliar on his face, but it bloomed easily in your presence. You nodded and rose from the couch, heading toward the kitchen, your silhouette briefly disappearing into the dim light.

As you turned the tap and filled the glass, you finally summoned the question that had been sitting on your tongue since he first stepped into your apartment. "You want to tell me how you got that?" you asked, voice casual, but laced with curiosity as you leaned your back against the counter, arms crossed.

Mattheo hesitated. His mind spun quickly through the easiest lie, one that wouldn't spark more questions. "I broke a jar," he said finally, tracing absent circles over the bandage you had so gently applied just minutes before. "Tried to pick up the glass, tripped a little. Guess I wasn't being careful."

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, and offered him a look that made him simultaneously want to laugh and squirm. "Nice story," you said, chuckling slightly. "Now tell me what actually happened."

Mattheo pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense, his features twisting into a playful expression. "Are you implying that I'm lying to you?" he asked, tone exaggeratedly wounded, though there was amusement glinting behind his eyes.

"That's exactly what I'm doing," you shot back, your smirk deepening, your eyes dancing with the challenge.

And just like that, something unspoken passed between you—a shift in the air, a charge that neither of you fully understood, but both of you felt.

"What makes you think I'm lying, hmm?" Mattheo asked, his voice smooth and low, edged with amusement. He cocked a brow, a smug little smirk dancing at the corner of his mouth—a smirk you'd seen far too many times in the hallways, in the elevator, in passing glimpses at your mailbox. You hated that it affected you the way it did. Hated how your pulse picked up every time you caught sight of him. How your breath always stalled for just a second too long.

There was something about him—something magnetic and consuming. Maybe it was his unwavering confidence, or the lazy way he always seemed to lean against doorframes like he had nowhere to be, like he had all the time in the world just to look at you. Maybe it was those dark curls, often tousled like he'd just rolled out of bed, or those impossibly deep brown eyes that made it hard to look away. Or maybe it was the small scar on the bridge of his nose—a subtle imperfection that made him all the more perfect. Whatever it was, he left you flustered in a way you hadn't been in years. You weren't the type to get distracted by someone so easily—but Mattheo was an exception, and your thoughts betrayed you constantly because of it.

You pushed yourself off the edge of the counter where you'd been leaning, suddenly aware of how close he still was, and walked over to hand him the glass of water. As you did, your fingers brushed his, sending an uninvited jolt of electricity through your veins. "One," you began, coolly, forcing your voice to remain steady. "I didn't find a single shard of glass when I was cleaning your hand. Two, that cut's far too straight to have come from a broken jar. And three..." you looked up at him, your gaze unwavering, "we live close enough that I would've heard something shatter in your apartment. But I didn't."

Mattheo's eyebrows rose, genuinely impressed. He hadn't expected you to pay such close attention—to every sound, every detail, every flicker of inconsistency in his words. God, it only made you more irresistible. The way your voice held firm, the way that one loose strand of hair curved down your cheek—he was hopelessly enamored. "Aren't you a bright one," he teased, the words curling out of his mouth like a purr. His gaze locked onto yours, heated and steady.

You tried to hold it, really, you did—but the intensity in his eyes was unbearable. It made your stomach flip, made your throat tighten. You hummed in response, barely audible, before quickly turning away and heading back toward the kitchen. You didn't need anything from there—not really. But the nearness of him, the way your skin still tingled where his hand had touched yours—it was too much. You needed distance. Space to think. Space to breathe. Because if you stayed too close, for even a moment longer, you might do something stupid— like lean in and kiss him.

"Care to explain how it really happened?" you asked, your voice a little quieter now as you fiddled absentmindedly with a spoon left out on the counter.

Silence.

You glanced over your shoulder, expecting a response—but he was still watching you, like he was drinking you in. Your heart jumped at the intensity of his stare, and something twisted in your chest. You narrowed your eyes slightly, thinking through the details. That kind of wound—clean, precise—it hadn't come from glass. It looked like the kind of cut a blade would make. But... how the hell did someone slice the inside of their palm like that?

And then it hit you.

"Oh my god..." you whispered, eyes widening slightly as you turned to face him fully. "Did you... cut yourself, Mattheo?"

Your voice softened on his name, barely more than a breath—but it stopped him cold. The way you said it, laced with concern and a quiet, blooming anger, made something primal shift in him. He could barely handle how it made him feel.

He grinned, far too casually for what he was admitting to. "Only so I could be taken care of by my favorite neighbor," he replied with a shrug, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Your cheeks flushed instantly. Heat rose to the surface of your skin, betraying your every effort to remain composed. You hated how easily he disarmed you—hated even more how much you liked it.

You didn't respond. Couldn't. Your body betrayed you with silence, and that was all the confirmation Mattheo needed.

"Are you turned on?" he asked, letting out a quiet, breathy chuckle that wrapped around your spine like silk. "What? No!" you blurted, your voice too quick, too defensive.

He tilted his head slightly, his smirk growing. "Now look who's lying."

And then he stood up.

You should have stepped back—your mind screamed at you to create space, to run before it got worse—but your body stayed rooted in place as he crossed the room in long, confident strides. Each step toward you made the room feel smaller, warmer, heavier with unspoken tension.

His hand came up gently, cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing a featherlight path across your skin. Your breath hitched. Your heart pounded. You looked up into his eyes—god, those eyes—and felt like you might melt right there.

"Tell me," he murmured, leaning in closer, his voice dipping into something low and intoxicating. "What is it that turns you on, hmm?" Your gaze faltered again, flicking downward in a futile attempt to escape the intensity. But his other hand rose, cradling the other side of your face, holding you in place with a kind of softness that made your knees weaken. "Don't shy away from me now," he whispered, eyes searching yours.

And for a moment —just a moment— the world stopped spinning. You couldn't breathe. Or maybe you were just too aware of every breath, every inch of space between your bodies—what little was left of it. His hands framed your face with such reverent gentleness, as if you were something sacred, something fragile. His thumbs moved slowly across your cheeks, tracing invisible paths that left your skin tingling in their wake. And his eyes... god, his eyes were devouring you—full of heat and curiosity and something deeper, something almost tender.

He leaned in just slightly, just enough for you to feel his breath ghost over your lips, and it took everything in you not to close the distance.

"I mean it," he said softly, voice low and husky, as though the air between you wasn't already heavy enough. "Don't look away."

You didn't. You couldn't.

Your heart thundered against your ribs, your lips parted ever so slightly, and time stilled around you. The kitchen disappeared. The world fell silent. All you could feel was his touch and his gaze and the way every part of you leaned toward him like a tide being pulled by the moon.

"Say something," he whispered, his lips barely inches from yours.

But you didn't need to. Because in the next heartbeat, you closed the space between you.

Your lips met his—tentative at first, like a question you didn't know how to ask—but the moment they touched, everything else unraveled. His hands tightened ever so slightly on your cheeks, pulling you closer, grounding you in the softness of his mouth against yours. He kissed you like he'd been waiting forever—slow, deep, savoring every second like he never wanted it to end. You felt his breath hitch, the way he exhaled into the kiss, like you'd stolen the air from his lungs and he didn't mind one bit.

Your hands found their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt like you needed something to hold onto. And maybe you did—because kissing Mattheo felt like falling. Like diving headfirst into something dangerous and beautiful and completely out of your control.

He kissed you like he meant it. Like he'd thought about this a thousand times and none of those daydreams came close to the real thing. His hands slid down, one settling lightly on your waist, the other brushing the small of your back, anchoring you to him.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, your foreheads touched, and your noses brushed. His eyes were still closed for a moment, as though committing every second of the kiss to memory.

You didn't say anything right away. Neither did he. You just stood there—hearts pounding, breathing each other in. "I knew it," he murmured finally, a lazy smile tugging at his lips. "You were turned on." You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling too. "You're insufferable."

"And yet," he whispered, tilting his head slightly, brushing his lips against yours again in a teasing ghost of a kiss, "you kissed me."

You didn't argue.

Because you already knew you'd do it again.

𖤓°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𖤓°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𖤓°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𖤓°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𖤓°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𖤓°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

A/N: this was so cute I loved writing it! Hope you loved reading it as well!

!Reblogs, Likes and Comments are highly appreciated¡

masterlist

…until next time lovelies💋

[jamminvroomvroom]

I absolutely adore your writing,

For the celebration, could you please do virgin reader first time with Oscar?

sunshine.

op x fem!reader - 4k celebration

in which oscar arrives home to an unexpected guest…

hi hi hi! thank you so much anon, i hope this is what you wanted!! trying to get through requests, loving hearing from you guys! this one is so cute i think, let me know ur thoughts 😚😚

songs to set the mood: fall in love with you by montell fish, fade into you by mazzy star, like real people do by hozier

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!!! smut, fluff, friends to lovers, sleepy baby oscar, teeny tiny bit of angst, mutual pining, r’s first time, swearing

2.9k words

oscar’s exhausted, shoulders sagging beneath the thick material of his mclaren hoodie. he’s glad he left it in his carry on, the miserable london weather not even remotely living up to the warm glow of the middle eastern sun.

he craves his bed, dreamless sleep, entering the code to get into his building and slumping against the cool mirrored wall of the elevator. his eyes droop as the lift travels up, and the ding that sounds when he reaches his floor breathes life back into him.

the double header that kickstarted the season has knackered him, and he longs for alone time and silence to recuperate before he has to deal with the noise of going home and racing in front of a familiar crowd.

his key slides into the lock and he pushes the door open, throwing his bags by the door - he’ll deal with them later. the hoodie is shrugged off and dropped haphazardly on the floor next to the shoes he kicks off. his bed is calling. dazed, he trudges down the hallway, but he’s spooked by a faint sound coming from his bedroom.

as he primes himself to investigate, he hears footsteps, light and quiet against the floorboards. he goes to open his bedroom door, breathing heavy, but he just about jumps out of his skin when it swings open before he gets there. he yelps, and so do you, leaping into the air.

“you scared the shit out of me.” you shout, hand over your thumping heart.

“i scared you? what are you doing here?” oscar bites back, running his hand through his brown locks.

“sorry, sorry, i didn’t mean to be here without your permission but… it’s a long story. i didn’t think you’d be home yet.” you smile apologetically.

“sofa.” oscar mumbles, stalking past his bedroom and towards the living room. “what’s goi- are you wearing my shirt?” he splutters, finally looking at you properly.

your face heats up, and you cross your arms awkwardly.

“um, yeah? god, this is all so embarrassing.” you cover your face, falling onto the sofa. he plonks down beside you.

“tell me what happened.” oscar sighs.

“he dumped me.”

“oh.”

“yeah.”

“why?” oscar asks softly. “ugh, i knew i hated him for a reason.” he wrinkles his nose.

“i don’t know how to explain this without wading into major tmi territory.” your voice is small, quivering slightly.

“you can tell me, love.” he encourages gently.

“he found it weird that i’m, uh, a virgin?” you squeak, your voice raising into a question. oscar goes as red as you are.

“oh. oh.”

“oh god, you’re freaked out too. is there something wrong with me? like, why has this not happened? i thought i was ready with him, but then when it came down to it…” you ramble, trailing off.

“there’s nothing wrong with you.” oscar states, firm and serious. “him, on the other hand.” he shakes his head, disgusted. “he wasn’t good enough for you.” he spits.

“do you mind if i stay here?” you whisper, leaning into his side. “or, keep staying here?” you laugh softly. oscar joins in.

“you know you can always stay here.” he smiles sleepily. you’re just about the only person in the world he can stand right now, and always, actually. “but i need a nap, you coming?”

you nod and follow him to his room. the tv is still on, the one with monica and chandlers wedding playing quietly. oscar smiles. he knows it’s your favourite.

he flops onto his side of the bed, dropping off almost instantly. you watch over him, enamoured and sympathetic, in awe of him and the life he lives. you slip into bed beside him, leaving a respectable distance between you and the aussie.

you pass out right around chandler’s vows.

-

you stir between two thick arms. pale, warm skin is wrapped around you, oscar’s soft breath fanning your face as he sleeps.

you watch him, scanning each and every mole on his face, trying to ground yourself. you combat the anxiety of being in his arms, choosing to enjoy the moment, while he’s still peaceful. it’s nice to feel wanted, even if he’s unconscious.

for the first time, you’re glad your ex broke up with you, because how does it make sense that you feel safer, more wanted in the arms of your best friend?

“stop staring, ‘m gonna blush.” oscar mumbles, clearing his throat. his eyes are still shut, but he just knows you too well.

oscar opens his eyes slowly, blinking away sleep. you stare at each other, comfortable silence eating away at the palpable tension.

you kiss him.

because why wouldn’t you? it’s oscar, your oscar, and he’s sleepy and cosy and gorgeous, and you’ve waited too fucking long. you can’t resist it any longer, free from the bounds of being someone else’s.

his lips are warm, and he’s startled, but the surprise doesn’t falter him; just as quickly as you kiss him, he’s kissing you back. his large hand finds your face, and the other finds your waist, pulling you closer. you melt into him, impossibly closer than you already were.

he’s gentle with you, tentative but firm and you part your lips, letting him lick into your mouth. his tongue strokes softly over yours and you keen at the sensation. he pushes you onto your back, balancing on his elbow half hovering over you. your hair fans out onto the pillow, his soft fingers running through your strands, pushing them away from your flushed face. oscar pulls away, scanning your face.

“sorry.” you smile up at him, breathless.

“apology very much accepted. i’ve been wondering when that would happen.” he laughs incredulously.

“really?”

“what can i say? i’m irresistible.” he replies dryly, exercising his sense of humour that was a foundation of your friendship.

“yeah. you kinda are.” you giggle bashfully.

and then he’s kissing you again, pressing himself even closer to you. you welcome him in, wrapping your arms around his lean frame, feeling over his shoulders. he’s tense, restrained, groaning into you at the feeling of your hands raking over his back.

“we should stop.” he mumbles, noses bumping. you frown.

“why?”

“because you said earlier, you’re not ready for this and i’m… well, things are gonna get real awkward if we keep going.” he chokes out half a laugh, glancing down at his-

“oh.”

“yeah, i just, i don’t want to make you uncomfortable. we can go slow.”

“osc, i wasn’t ready with him,” you pause, collecting your thoughts. “but you’re not him.”

“i suppose that’s true.” he shrugs.

“then you better do something.”

oscar lays you back, climbing over you completely this time. his trails over your jaw, taking your chin between his fingers.

“are you sure about this? we can stop anytime, just say the words.”

“‘m sure, oscar. i want to do this with you.” you coo, reassuringly.

his lips run over your neck, your collarbone, and he mouths at the collar of the t-shirt that you’re wearing. his t-shirt. his.

“gonna take this off, yeah?” he asks, whispering low, right by your ear.

“yeah, please.” you say, your own hands running under his t-shirt and up his muscular back. he’s relaxed now, no tension between his shoulder blades, and so you push the material up, and he slips it over his head. his warm digits peel your shirt off, too, and you’re warm all over when his eyes trail over your chest.

you’d forgone a bra, ditching it when you’d arrived at his place, and his pupils are blown wide, hazel hues sparkling with desire. his hands slide up your ribcage, thumbing at the underside of your breasts, while he plants open mouthed kisses down your chest. your eyes flutter shut, gasping softly as he skims your nipple.

“oscar.” you breathe, the light whimper sending his blood rushing south.

“does that feel good?” he asks, searching your face for answers.

“more.” you sound strained, desperate, and he aches.

his sucks your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the swollen bud. he toys with the other one, massaging your breast with his skilful fingers, tweaking and pulling until you’re panting beneath him. he pulls away with a pop, licking over to the other side, deciding to test your limits when he nips delicately at the peak. you moan, bucking your hips, hypersensitive to his every move.

you can feel how hard he is, his grey joggers growing tighter with every passing second.

“want all of you, osc.” you plead.

“need to get you ready for me first, okay honey?” he rubs circles into your sides, warm and calloused. you relax fully, lifting your hips.

oscar mouthed over your belly, peppering sunshine-like kisses down your abdomen until he finds the band of your loose shorts. he mumbles something into you navel about taking them off and you nod, enthusiastic and frantic. you can feel his smile branding your sensitive skin. the material glides down your thighs, pooling at your ankles, and you kick them away. he parts your thighs, making himself comfortable on his belly, and thumbs at the crease of your leg, toying with your panties.

he drags his pointer finger over your covered slit, up and down slowly, applying more pressure every time he brushes over your clit. oscar can see where you’re starting to seep through your panties and he stifles a low groan, anxious to peel the cotton off of your body, the final barrier separating him from you, so he does, pulling them slowly down your legs. he studies your face as he does, keeping his eyes firmly on yours. your lip catches between your teeth, aching as you watch, helpless and wet.

oscar kisses your hip bone, sucking gently until he’s stained it purple, and then his warm breath is fanning your cunt. your eyes squeeze shut.

“look at me, baby. gotta keep your eyes on me.” oscar mutters. your pussy clenches around nothing at the tone of his voice. you pry your eyes open, just about managing to prop yourself up on your elbows. “that’s it, honey. has anyone ever done this to you before?”

you shake your head, no. he smiles to himself, like he knows something you don’t, and dives in.

his tongue works in slow strokes, dragging through your slick with intent, eyes locked with yours. you must look like a deer in headlights, pupils blown, shocked with pleasure when you collapse against the mattress. he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking, tasting, and your legs go weak, splayed open all for him. you whimper as he tugs your clit between his teeth, just enough to graze over the sensitive nerves. it sends your hips flying, bucking wildly against his face.

“osc…” you breathe, squeezing your eyes shut.

“‘m gonna give you some more, is that okay?” he asks, nose bumping your clit.

“yes, please.” you don’t know what more is, but you need it like air.

you feel a finger glide over your sodden flesh, rubbing over your entrance. you sigh out, oh, anticipation and bliss sending white heat down your spine. he circles his finger around your opening, coating it in you, and carefully slides it in, feeling out for any sign of tension or discomfort. when you grind your hips onto the single digit, he knows you’re okay.

it feels good, better than anything you’d ever felt on your own, and you writhe against his bedspread. he thrusts a couple of times, experimenting, seeing what makes you squirm for him the right way, and when his finger curls, hooking deliciously, he knows he’s struck gold. you arch off the bed, searching for more, more, anything.

“another one.” you cry, begging, and oscar’s not one to tease. not yet, anyway.

a second finger joins the lonesome first, and he finds some pace, fucking into you faster. he scissors the digits, stretching you out for him, enjoying the pretty view. he’s achingly hard now, rocking discreetly into the mattress, losing his mind as he watches how you drip around his fingers. he wants another taste of you, addicted already to sweet, salty honey, so he has to finish you off, lap your mess off of his long fingers.

“i think- i think-“ you can’t get the words out, they’re lost on your tongue, but oscar knows what you mean.

“that’s it, baby. so good for me, doing so good. cum for me.” he spurs you on, drawing it out of you.

you let go, crashing biblically, the high sending you to heaven and back, two times over. he grinds his fingers, softer, just enough to help you through it and you chant his name like you’re praying at an alter. you know that you’ll never be over this. your oscar.

“holy shit.” you giggle, smiling lazily as you return to the world of the living. he’s licking his fingers clean; you could black out so easily.

“did you enjoy that?” he punctuates with a kiss to your belly, crawling up your body until he’s hovering over you.

“maybe you should do it again, just so that i can really make sure that i did.” you tease. your hand rakes through his hair, pushing it back off of his face. he’s grinning down at you, eyes fluttering shut. “that was amazing.” you whisper. he’s blushing when he kisses you, and then you are too, when you taste yourself on his tongue.

he moans against your lips, making you pull back. your hand leaves his brown strands, joining your other, which is currently voyaging down his back.

“you’re wearing too many clothes.” you whisper, lips bumping his as your hands slide under the waistband of his sweats. something desperate emits from the back of his throat. you push them over his hips, fisting the thick fabric, eager to have him bare on top of you once and for all. oscar helps, kicking them away, boxers too.

you can feel him, thick and wet between your thighs, his breathing uneven. your nails graze his hip and he jolts, collapsing on top of you, his full weight covering your keening body. he kisses into the crook of your neck, frantic; you need him deep, immediately, his urgent change in form leaving you flushed.

“you want me?” he whispers into your ear, leaving you shivering.

“so bad.” you pant.

“i’ll be gentle.” he promises.

he guides himself through your folds, slippery and warm, all for him. he nudges the head inside of you, hips stuttering at the blinding tightness. you gasp, but he catches it in his mouth, softly moulding his lips to yours as he pushes further. you open up for him, pliant, and when he eventually bottoms out, he holds himself there, letting you adjust.

“oh, fuck.” your eyes roll back, nails leaving crescent marks in his shoulders.

“so good for me, so pretty.” oscar grunts. “say when, baby.” he breathes, rubbing soothing circles into your hip.

“move.”

oscar rolls his hips, rocking you into the mattress. he hooks your knee over his waist, driving himself deeper and deeper with every thrust. you’re boneless, lost to the delectable stretch, to the way his cock seems to touch every part of you that makes you quiver.

“tell me how it feels.” oscar murmurs, grip tightening on your thigh.

“fuck, oscar, it’s so good. ‘m so glad it’s you.” your voice shakes, raw with emotion.

“me fucking too.” he mumbles, increasing his pace ever so slightly.

his thrusts lull into more of a grind, reaching your depths and revelling in the way you only get tighter for him. you’re spilling around him, already so close to meeting your end, and all it takes is the calloused pad of his thumb brushing your bundle of nerves to have you convulsing. you’re somewhere else entirely, on a whole other spiritual plane, utterly and completely his as he fucks you through your second orgasm.

when he spills, white hot and sweat slicked, he gushes endless hushed whines of your name. it sounds perfect when he says it like this, rolling off of his tongue with dire urgency.

his dampened hair falls over his darkened eyes, full of stars and total adoration. you’re smiling sleepily up at him like he’s made of sunshine. you always thought he was, and now you know that he most definitely is.

the most beautiful sunshine man.

“hi.” he whispers.

“hi.” you whisper back.

an intimacy, different to the one you’ve just shared, blossoms between you, encapsulating you here with him endlessly.

“i’m gonna clean you up, ‘n then we’re gonna order food.” he gazes fondly, stroking your hair.

“perfect.” you agree.

“put friends back on, i’m gonna run you a bath.” he begrudgingly stands from the bed, trailing towards the en-suite.

“you’re gonna join me in there, right?” you admire his naked frame as he disappears into the bathroom.

“obviously.” he pokes his head out once more to scoff, and you lay there, grinning like the worlds most lovesick idiot, your thoughts dulled by the sound of running water.

when the bath is full of hot water and too many bubbles, he gets in first, and you sink into the revitalising heat. oscar pulls you close, your back to his chest, kissing over your hairline as you mould yourself against him.

“thank god you broke in.”

-

oh i’m soft

-

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[householdcryptid]

NFWMB

based on the ask i got about protective pope when on-call!reader gets decked by a patient! title is a hozier song that is so pope coded it makes me ill <3 cw:canon typical violence, religious themes sort of(done poorly, I haven't been to church in years), original male character, original female character, stalking(?), idk what else yall tell me if I missed something lol. 2.K

It happens in a flash, so quickly you hardly have time to react. The patient's fist collides with your face with a sickening crunch, and you’re on the ground before you can yelp in pain. Warmth drips from your nostril, painting your upper lip crimson, an ache blooming across the bridge of your nose. 

A broken nose, the radiology tech tells you. Hairline fracture that will heal by itself, a nasty shiner to brag about for a week or so. The only thing you can think is that Andrew is going to be pissed. You’re stuffing bits of paper towel up your nostril when Claire, a fellow nurse, pipes up. 

“Should we call your boyfriend?” A denial clings to the tip of your tongue. He isn’t my boyfriend. Goes unsaid, because to be quite honest, you don’t know what you and Andrew are. You wave her off and come up with some lame excuse about him being busy with work. It isn’t technically a lie, at least. He’s always busy with something or other, and you never ask for details. The only problem is that the girls won’t let you drive yourself home. So, instead of calling Andrew, you resort to drastic measures. Your stomach twists anxiously, at the receiver's  pick up sound, and the, saccharine-sweet tone of Smurf’s voice meets your ears. “Hi there, Sunshine.” She greets, faux warm, the crooning sound of her voice making your face ache worse somehow. 

“Hey Smurf,” You greet in turn, index finger and thumb cradling the bridge of your nose tenderly. “I hate to bother you, but I have a favor to ask you if you’d be so kind?” You cringe at your own voice, pitched up and nasally. “Of course, baby,” Smurf hums in what you think is supposed to be a soothing manner. It only sets your teeth on edge. “What happened, hm?” 

“I need a ride.” Smurf had assured you, of course, that Andrew wouldn’t be bothered by your unfortunate injuries. An assurance in which you take with a grain of salt. Smurf doesn’t know Andrew as well as she thinks she does, after all. Or maybe this is her manipulative way to make you think he doesn’t give a shit. 

It takes some convincing, to get her to take you back to your apartment, and not the Cody house. You aren’t sure you’re ready to face Pope yet, buzzing with anxiety still, the adrenaline from earlier finally waning, leaving your fingers trembling and your knees weak. It’s late that night when a heavy fist hits your door. You’re groggy, stumbling to the door with a grumble. “Who s’it?” A moment of silence, and then:

“Open the door.” 

Shit. You duck your chin as you pull the door open for him, turning your head some in a feeble attempt to hide the bruise that marrs the skin beneath your eye in a bloom of reds and purples. “Hello, Andrew.” You greet, knowing you can’t escape him now. He doesn’t respond. Simply shoulders his way inside, movements a bit jerky, like he’s barely containing his rage. “Lemme see it.” He demands in place of a proper greeting, voice low, quiet like the calm before the storm. It makes you sigh, shoulders sagging, resigned to your swift coming scolding. You tip your chin back up, eyes averted from his own, shame-faced. His disappointment is obvious in the downturn at the corners of his lips, his anger is palpable. You’ve rarely seen Andrew truly angry, but it feels the same every time. Like something in the air has shifted, leaving it colder, the hairs on the back of your neck standing to attention. “It’s not so bad-” You go to downplay it, but one heavy sigh from his nose silences you. It’s quiet for a moment, the air seeming to go still, neither of you breathing for a split second. “Who?” He breaks the silence first, and it sets your nerves to fizzing all over again. “Andrew, there really isn’t a need for that-” You try to soothe, shaking your head gently, wincing when it revives the pain in your face. “Who?” He repeats, colder this time, demanding. His tone brooks no room for argument. It’s obvious he has no interest in half-assed excuses. You fumble for a second, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, before you nod. “A patient at the clinic this morning,” You mumble, reluctant to share the information. “McRoy. James, I think was his name.” His jaw clenches, a rough breath leaving his nose, nostrils flared like a bull ready to charge. You can’t meet his eyes, but you can see his fingers tense, wiggle gently, before curling into fists. “He was coked out, Andrew, wasn’t thinkin’ straight. Thought I was comin’ at him with a knife or somethin’.” You try to explain, but it comes out too weak, not convincing in the slightest. He just stares, shark-eyed, can’t look away from the bruise that mottles your pretty face. He can’t think, guilt and anger twining together in his chest, settling like an old friend. Someone hurt you. Some piece of shit put his hands on you and he wasn’t there to put the man in the ground. 

He’s stock still for a long while, a handful of minutes that feel like an hour. Then he’s moving, stalking back out your front door, slamming it behind him so hard the blinds rattle loudly, breaking the tense silence. Shit, you think for a second time that night.  

  Andrew has a long-running relationship with anger. It clings to his soul, claws dug in long before he met you, the only constant in his life. This feeling? Whatever it is is ten times worse. Like his blood boils, making his skin itch, his ears hot. A white hot rage fills him each time he pictures the bruise on your face, imagines that bastard’s fist hitting your nose. Finding James McRoy isn’t difficult. A piece of shit, twice your age, covered in shitty tattoos and smelling of grime and the acrid scent of whatever he’s smoking out of that pipe. 

Pope is efficient, a well-oiled machine meant to demolish. James goes down easy. Pope’s fist cracks against his jaw, once, twice, a third time. James crumples to the floor, shouting and kicking at Pope’s shins. Pope wonders if you fought back the same way, the idea of it makes something cruel well in his chest. His boot catches James in the stomach, hard enough to knock the wind from him, and then Pope descends.

It’s well into the wee hours of the morning when you wake again. You’d stayed up an hour after Andrew left, and then another, before realizing this wasn’t some awful dream. There’s someone in your bedroom. You wake with a grumble, the ache in your nose blooming across the middle of your face. You fumble at your bedside table, searching for the bottle of Tylenol you’d left there, when a warm hand presses two pills into your palm. You jump, startled fully awake, gasping sharply. 

“The fuck-” You pause, blinking blearily as you yank on the chain of your lamp. 

“Sorry.” Andrew mumbles, retreating to the chair he’d set up by your bedside, leaned back against the wall, but he isn’t relaxed. Then again, is he ever? When your vision finally clears, you glare weakly at him. Not upset, really, just a little annoyed at being spooked so early in the morning. You get a proper look at him, and something cold settles in your belly. 

There’s blood splattered up his arms, on his shirt, his cheek. His eyes are a little wide, breathing heavy, a wild look you’ve never seen before. “Andrew..” You breathe out, a little pained, sitting up in bed, leaning towards him. “What-..?” You go to question him, but think better of it. You don’t need to ask whose blood it is, you don’t need to know details. You swallow down the questions, reaching out to take his hands in your own. He flinches minutely, fingers twitching, his eyes cutting to your own, unreadable. Your hands slow, but you don’t falter. You’d told him months ago you weren’t scared of him. He needs to know you still aren’t. “Let me see?” You ask, quiet, just above a whisper. You wait for his tiny nod, more a jerk of his chin downwards, before you take his hands in your own. His knuckles are split, an angry red that’ll scab over by morning, turn a pretty shade of purple in some places, but no fingers are broken. He tenses while you look over his hands, staring down at you, silent as the grave. You don’t know what to say, for once. With Andrew, it’s always been easy. Some inexplicable understanding between the two of you, no words needed most of the time. Now it feels different. You feel like you need to say something, show some form of gratitude maybe, even if it’s fucked up. But the words don’t come, and you end up thumbing over the back of his hand absentmindedly. “You should take the pills.” He mutters, gruff and low, his voice hoarse like he’d been shouting. His eyes are glued to where you’re cradling his hands. Transfixed, as if he simply can’t look away. It makes you smile for some reason, his worry. “Probably.” His eyes flicker up to your own, the set of his jaw slackening some. Your smile soothes him. You aren’t angry with him, you aren’t scared. “Had to do it.” He mumbles, lips twisted up, biting at the inside of them. “He hurt you.” 

The words leave him like a confession, like he’s begging for forgiveness. “I know.” You reply quietly. “It’s okay.”The tension bleeds from his shoulders, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. It’s absolution, your assurance. His breath rushes from him, trembling slightly, his chin dropping to his chest. He brings your hands up, presses the backs of them to his face, and burrows into your touch. You think your heart might be breaking. “Andrew,” You whisper, sliding from the bed, kneeling in front of him, your hands turning to cup his cheeks. You duck your head, catching his gaze. “Thank you.” His eyes flit across your face, swallowing hard. He looks younger, frightened. You wonder how he was as a kid, sometimes. If he’d always been so intense, if there was ever a moment in his life when he felt good. He leans forward, sagging into your hands, presses his forehead to your own, breathing hard. His eyes close, and he just..breathes you in. This is all he needs, all he wants. To have you close, safe, where he can smell your shampoo, and that coconut body lotion you use. “Let’s lie down,” You suggest softly, thumbs brushing along his cheeks. “Yeah?” His eyebrows furrow some, warring with himself mentally, before he nods, sighing through his nose. Gentling him into your bed is easier than it should be, you think. You’d always imagined he might put up a fight, get closed off and stiff. But when you climb in next to him? He melts. Curls himself around you, presses his face to your chest, forehead at the hollow of your throat, head bowed, arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you in. You have no option but to wrap yourself around him in return. He sucks in a breath like he hasn’t been able to for the whole night, the exhale shaking a bit.  It’s too easy to fall asleep like this when he’s so warm and nuzzling at the skin just below your collarbone absently. Your fingers find his hair, and he sighs against your sternum. Sleep finds you quickly, then, falling fast and deep. You don’t know what the two of you are to each other, still, but whatever it is? You hope it never ends. 

[withwritersblock]

Too Sweet

~Too Sweet by Hozier~

Author's Note: this is inspired by that transition trend on tiktok and my friend suggested it to me lol Summary: Luke is so down bad for Y/N idk how else to summarize it lol Warnings: implied smut Word Count: 2,328 Luke Hughes x fm!reader

Luke stood in the bathroom running his fingers through his curls, trying to achieve the perfect messy but put together look. He was wearing a slick all black suit. It was Casino Night for the New Jersey Devils. It was a charity event where they got to dress in their best suits and gamble for charity. 

Luke should’ve been excited, he was excited for the whole money raising aspect. But he was not prepared to put on a show for all of the cameras. He licked his lips nervously as Y/N walked into the bathroom. She wore a tight floor length gown. It was black with glitter all over it.

The dress code for the event was black tie and the players were dliberately told to not ignore the dress code. Since some of the players tend to dress down for games, the staff didn’t want that to happen for this event.

Which meant their dates to the event had to wear elegant dresses. He tilted his head to the side to admire her frame. His cheeks flushed red as he fought off the smirk forming on his lips. 

“Is it too much? I’ve got other options,” she muttered as she was adjusting the earrings on her ear. He shook his head instantly, he was frozen as his eyes continued to scan her frame. Her skin went warm as she watched Luke continue to admire every single inch of her body. “Luke,” she let out shyly as she looked towards the ceiling. 

He dryly chuckled as he ran his hand over his chin, “Where have you been hiding this?” he mumbled as he took a step towards her, his hands hesitantly reaching towards her. She met his gaze as she shyly pulled her lips between her teeth. 

“You haven’t taken me somewhere fancy,” she said as she turned around to start walking out of the bathroom. He hummed as he finally rested his hands onto her waist pulling her towards him.

“We don’t have to go anywhere,” He mumbled as he pressed his lips on her exposed shoulder. He slowly trailed his lips from her shoulder towards her neck, kissing her just below her ear.

“Luke, it’s going to be fun,” she mumbled as she rested her hand as she ran her fingers through his hair slowly.

“But you know what could be more fun,” he trailed off as he took a hold of her chin, turning her face towards him. He raised his eyebrows as he met her gaze. She squinted slightly as her lips curled upward. He leaned towards her, kissing her sensually and slowly. She spun around to face her body towards him, she rested her hands on the base of his neck. 

Pulling away reluctantly, “We’re going to go and you’re going to enjoy every moment of it,” she explained before she pressed her lips against his for a brief second, “And then maybe you’ll get to see what I purchased a few days ago,” she kissed him once more as she pulled away from his grasp. 

“What-What- you purchased something?” he asked quietly, his voice cracking. She smirked as she bit her lip. His mouth fell open, “Why can’t I see it now?” he pouted slightly as he walked towards her at the foot of the bed. 

“Because we have somewhere to be,” she let out teasingly as she reached her hand towards him, he sighed dramatically as he took a hold of her hand. She spun around and guided him out of the bedroom, his eyes trailing her frame and the way her hips sway as she walks.

“Oh my god,” he muttered as he continued staring hard. 

They decided to Uber to the event, they sat in the backseat quietly as the Uber driver played music loudly. Y/N looked over Luke’s frame, the suit looked stunning on his frame. His eyes were a bright contrast against the all black. She reached over towards him and unbuttoned the top button and adjusted the top to show more skin.

He furrowed his eyebrows as the silver necklace was more in view. “For the fans,” she muttered as she shrugged her shoulders. She trailed her finger across his skin briefly before the Uber driver pulled the car to a stop. 

He chuckled nervously as he thanked the driver before he climbed out of the car. He walked towards her side of the car as he opened the door for her. He reached his hand out towards her as he cautiously helped her out of the car. She walked forward, careful not to trip on her dress. She took a hold of it as she stepped up onto the curb with Luke beside her. 

Jack and his date were waiting by the doors for Luke and Y/N to walk inside. Jack smiled widely once he saw his little brother. “Is that a new suit?” Jack asked as Luke and Y/N walked towards them. Luke smiled shyly. “Looks good. Gonna look great on the red carpet,” he muttered. 

Jack guided his date inside as Luke stopped and stood still. “Red carpet?” he asked quietly. Y/N smiled widely as she took a hold of his hand.

“You better smile,” she teased as they walked inside the building to see Jack and his date posing for the cameras. Jack was laughing at something she said. 

“We’ll let you know when you two can go,” the man with a clipboard said beside them. Luke nodded as he clenched his jaw. Luke wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her towards him. Luke had started slowly rubbing his hand up and down her side as he stared towards all of the cameras. 

“This is nuts,” he whispered as he leaned into her ear. She smiled towards him as the man with the clipboard alerted them that they could walk towards the cameras. “Come on, Baby,” he mumbled, keeping his hand on her lowerback as the pair walked onto the red carpet. The usual social media girl was standing dead center for the photo ops. Which calmed Luke’s nerves a bit.

“We’ll make it fast for you, Luke,” she let out with a chuckle. 

“Thank you,” he mumbled as he started smiling widely. He squeezed his hand on her hip as she smiled widely as well. 

He shifted his gaze towards Y/N for a second, suddenly his cheeks pinked up as his smile became more genuine. “Amazing, you guys go have fun!” she let out as she poked her head out away from the camera. 

“Let’s go, Baby,” he muttered as he kissed her cheek briefly before they continued walking out of the red carpet. 

~~~

It had been an hour since they had arrived and Luke was working one of the tables with Curtis, trying to make an impression on the people that were supposed to make donations. Y/N stood at the same casino table, playing black jack, with Jack and his date. 

“Alright Lukey Boy, don’t let Y/N win because she’s your girlfriend,” Jack chirped as he looked at the two cards the Curtis handed him. Luke chuckled nervously as he met Y/N’s gaze. 

“Don’t be jealous that she’s good at this game and you’re not,” Luke poked back as he looked towards Curits beside him. Y/N smiled as she leaned down to count her cards. She was already at twenty. She lifted her gaze to meet Luke’s gaze. She raised her eyebrows expectedly as she glanced towards the camera beside her. 

After another fifteen minutes, Luke was finished with his “shift” on the tables and got to experience the event himself with his beautiful girlfriend beside him. They walked up to the bar top and ordered two sodas because they were still underage. He smiled kindly towards the bartender as he took a hold of the small plastic cups. He delicately handed it towards her.

“You look beautiful,” he mumbled as he scanned her frame. She smiled shyly as she took a small sip of the drink. “You have to wear this more often,” he mumbled as he took a small step closer to her.

“Wait until you see what I have underneath it,” she whispered as started walking back towards the tables and the crowd of people.

Luke stayed still for a moment, watching her walk away as his breath was caught in his throat. His mouth opened up for a moment before he clamped it shut before he started following her towards the crowd of people. She stopped at their designated table, where they were assigned to sit for the dinner that would be served in another twenty minutes. She was in the process of sitting down when Luke immediately went and sat down beside her.

“You can’t say things like that,” he mumbled as he scooted his chair closer to her. She ignored him as she just sipped her drink. She met his gaze watching his cheeks flush red. “You can’t just say that and walk away, not fair,” he muttered as he licked his lips. 

“Oh it’s not fair?” she asked teasingly.

“Nope, not fair,” he mumbled as he watched Jack sit down beside him, placing a plastic cup with dark liquid in front of him. Luke furrowed his eyebrows as he stared towards Jack confused.

“You look tense, you have to loosen up,” Jack muttered as he began drinking his own drink. Y/N smirked as she dropped her gaze towards her phone resting in front of her.

“Dude, I can’t drink this here,” he let out as he glanced towards Y/N. 

“Nobody is going to care,” Jack said. Luke quickly picked it up and drank nearly the whole thing as he shot Y/N another look. His whole body shook as the alcohol was stronger than he thought. Her lips were still curled up in a smirk. The drink had whiskey in it; an alcohol he usualy avoids. “Damn, you really did need a drink.”

“Yeah,” Luke mumbled as he maintained eye contact with Y/N. She was enjoying every moment of teasing him. “How much longer is this thing going to last?” He asked Jack.

Jack stared towards him suspiciously as his lips slowly curled upward in a smirk, “It just started, what do you mean?” Jack expressed. Luke rolled his eyes as they started making an annoucement that dinner was going to start being served. 

“Why? Have somewhere you need to be?” Jack asked as he looked between Luke and Y/N. 

Luke simply shook his head as he rested his hand onto her thigh, running his hand slowly up and down the exposed skin. The slit in her dress was hard to ignore. “What’d you guys request?” Jack asked.

~~~

He shoved the door open fast as he dragged her inside, cautiously not to have her trip over her dress. She smiled knowingly as he locked the door behind him. He pushed her body against the door, “You think you are so funny,” he mumbled, his face only a few inches away from hers. He delicately ran his index finger along her exposed skin, tracing the exposed curve of her breasts. 

Her breath caught in her throat as she looked into his darkened eyes, “It was a little funny,” she mumbled. His hand continued to caress her skin delicately but urgently. It was a weird sensation that she was convinced could make her undone in that moment. 

“I think I get to see what's underneath now, don’t I?” he whispered as his hand slowly caressed the exposed skin of her thigh. Her lips curled upward as she nodded. 

He urgently kissed her, devouring her lips with his. His tongue met hers, controlling the fast but sensual pace. 

She kicked her heels off as they stumbled backwards together. She pulled away, opening her eyes to see him leaning towards her desperately. “You wait,” she mumbled as she started walking towards the bedroom. 

“I’m tired of waiting,” he let out while laughing. She chuckled as she smiled a toothy grin as she stepped into the bedroom.

“I’ll text you when you can come in,” she said as she peeked her head out of the bedroom. He let out a dramatic groan. 

She began tugging the zipper of the dress, surprisingly easier to come off than she thought. She kicked the dress away from her feet towards the bathroom, not worried about it wrinkling. She looked into the mirror to see the black lace lingerie set she had purchased a few days ago. It amplified every curve of her body in the most perfect way. 

She texted him as she sat down on the bed, leaning back on her hands. Within seconds he pushed open the door, his cheeks flushing red instantly. His mouth fell open as he blinked slowly. “I could faint,” he mumbled as he bit his bottom lip. 

She slowly stood up and walked towards him, taking a hold of his hand. “Then you sit there and let me,” she trailed off as he sat down on the edge of the bed. 

She slowly climbed onto his lap wrapped her arms around his neck as she urgently kissed him, his hands landed right on her ass as she arched her back. 

After a few seconds, she tilted her head back letting him kiss and suck on her neck and chest. He didn’t hesistated as she slowly tugged the suit jacket off of his frame, throwing it to the ground. He took a hold of her thighs as he stood up from the bed, she gasped as she met his gaze. 

He tossed her down on the bed, standing at the edge of the bed. He began to unbutton his undershirt as he stared at her frame. He pulled the undershirt away from his body, revealing his toned body as he instantly climbed back on top of her, devouring her lips.

[taylorklosscomeout138]

UHMMMM SO

Nobody is talking about this but I really think we should?!?!?! And I have a lot to share so bare with me on this info overload !

We are coming up on the 6 year anniversary of Taylor's failed coming out at NYC Pride which was also the same day she lost her masters. Obviously this is huge given she just announced regaining them right before Pride month began despite taking the announcement pics 2 months prior.

So this made me feel like something VERY New Romantics was going to happen music release wise in June. So I checked and what I found is a GOLD MINE YALL.

Tree literally approved coverage for this.

Barbabra Streisand is doing a Part 2 to her 2014 album called THE SECRET OF LIFE and it features SOOOO many relevant queer artists in Taylor's circles. This has New Romantics all over it.

James Taylor?? Tim McGraw?? Paul McCartney??? Sam Smith?? Ariana Grande?? Bob Dylan?? Even Hozier and the recent Laufey connections I mean just go look at her new album art for yourself it's so Midnights coded and her legs are on 13

Tim McGraw's daughter just took to insta today to clarify she's an out and proud queer woman as well and this is directly following Taylor's confirmation that Debut TV is complete and ready for announcement / release when the time is right.

Barbara is 83. BECAUSE OF COURSE.

The CD is being sold for 13.98?!? Like-

And Barbara just recently took to Twitter to defend Taylor a few months back like this is just not a coincidence at all

I'm not saying Taylor is going to come out at the end of June on the 6 year anniversary with a double reclaim of what was stolen from her, her masters and her freedom, despite how perfect that would be but

I AM saying this is the failed coming out anniversary to watch for. This is different territory now that she owns her work and I do think this is the head domino that has been pushed and we are about to see the rest fall quite rapidly to the finale.

And that of course means I am keeping a VERY watchful eye on Christian Siriano who has already began some stunts, posting about lavender fields with a very Speak Now esque dress right before Taylpr announced she has her masters with the Kaylor ring placed on Speak Now wearing a lavender shirt and nails and let's not forget this tweet from a certain someone....

And this discovered lore?!?! With her announcing in lavender on a date that directly mirrors when she had the queer guy in lavender in the Mean MV getting bullied by... football players?!?!? Holding a... FASHION MAGAZINE.

And last but certainly not least, Christian just posted this new sketch pride dress today and it SHOULD look familiar. He posts the actual rainbow dress Taylor was suppose to come out in in 2019 at NYC Pride almost every single year but he also always does very similar style reimagined sketches of it....

Also not sure if we saw but last day before Pride month began King Princess literally posted the Anti Hero scale scene but instead of the 3 letter word ending with a T it was edited to end with a G.... and it's Taylor on it- and it was captioned

"New beginnings start tomorrow" ... I really think we are in the home stretch

[the-ragbros-are-okay]

RAGBROS CODED SONGS

under the cut bc it’s a long post

Ribs by Lorde - this song has such a longing for the childhood and/or past

“you’re the only friend i need; sharing beds like little kids; we’ll laugh until our ribs get tired”

it makes me think of them staying up past their bedtime and telling stories under a blanket

Shots by Imagine Dragons - there are lyrics about reminiscence and places you used to go with someone

and then of course the obvious “i shot, shot, shot a hole through every single thing that i loved”

i’d say this song is more Diluc-centric for sure, focusing around him realizing “oh God, I fucked EVERYTHING up didn’t i?”

and maybe that realization hits him after he returns to Mondstadt and sees how different Kaeya is

Brother by Madds Buckley - this song was written for Touya and Shoto from BNHA, but it goes along with ragbros as well i think

“i left you alone, in a house and not a home”

“Brother, i watched the sky burn; and all i learned was smoke fills the lungs like a disease”

i want to CRY every single time i hear this song

What’s Wrong by half•alive - just the lyrics “time’s always right to fix what’s wrong”

and maybe both of them think “i should talk to him” every time they see each other but they don’t because they’re scared

also these lyrics are SO kaeya omg

had to take pics bc i wasn’t about to type out ALL of this:

Burning Down by Alex Warren - this ENTIRE song feels like diluc’s internal monologue right after kaeya told him the truth about his origins

once again, way too many lyrics to type out bc i would just be typing the entire song

Achilles Come Down by Gang of Youths - to me, this song feels like people talking to Kaeya after Diluc left

kind of asking for him to come back to them, bc even though he’s an expert at masking his emotions, i KNOW people like Jean and Adelinde would be able to tell that smth was wrong

Oysters in my Pocket by Royal Otis - when you’re young you think you have all the time in the world, and you think things will stay the same

you think you’ll always be with your childhood friends eating popsicles on the back porch and you don’t want to think about the future

and i think that’s what ragbros felt, they thought they would be best friends for the rest of their lives

Nobody’s Soldier by Hozier - both of them broke away from smth they were previously a part of: Kaeya with K’hanriah (probably spelled that wrong idc) and Diluc with the Knights

they’re forging their own paths from what their parents expected of them

Evelyn Evelyn by Evelyn Evelyn - this song is about two conjoined twins (Eve and Lyn) and how close they are, and then how they want to get away from each other

how one wants to separate and the other doesn’t know what they would do if separated

“We grew up so very close”

Harpy Hare by Yaelokre - just watch this:

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZP86yYPpJ/

crepus wanting to keep his kids safe and then everything happens on That Night :(

Wires by The Neighborhood - honestly i feel like this song can go both ways

either diluc about kaeya after his return, or kaeya about diluc after his return

Two Birds by Regina Spektor- this song just speaks for itself tbh

a lot of people use this for ragbros animatics and it 100% fits them

Seventeen by MARINA - just the lyrics “could never tell you what happened the day i turned seventeen”

(yes ik diluc was 18)

bc it seems so impossible for them to talk about, such a HUGE topic to tackle and they’re scared of it. scared of talking about it and everything going wrong

but anyway. diluc’s 18th bday is when their worlds crumbled around them. how are they supposed to explain that to anyone else but each other?

The Fall by half•alive - “it’s like sharing a dream with someone, once you say it out loud it can’t be undone. i cant trust the fall”

they would trust each other, but they can’t anymore

diluc thought they would always be brothers

kaeya didn’t know things would fall apart like that

they trust each other when it comes to things like work and keeping Mondstadt safe, but when it comes to each other? it’s just so hard

Traitor by Daughtry - another song that speaks for itself

“the only thing worse than a hater, is a traitor”

definitely diluc talking about kaeya here, probably in those years he was away

My Alcoholic Friends by The Dresden Dolls - kaeya. this song is kaeya. 100%, through and through, kaeya.

after diluc left, he feels lost. he’s trying to figure out what to do with his life now that the person he shared it with is gone

i know you guys have sent songs in my asks and i’ll def be looking through them!! i just moved back from uni and have been INSANELY busy unpacking and everything

[renx01]

Too Sweet

Prompt: Inspired by the Hozier song Pairing: Harry Hart x (Kingsman!)Reader Fandom: Kingsman Tags/Warnings: age gap, mutual pining, angst Word count: 6495

Masterlist

You’d joined Kingsman only five years ago, and over time you’ve become a well-respected agent, code-named Tristan. Merlin, who is your uncle, was the one who had proposed you as a candidate and helped you prepare for the role while you were still in your early twenties. The other candidates had been good, but you were nearly flawless, only taking calculated risks and never letting your emotions rule your decision making. Control over your emotions was something you always excelled in, and it tremendously helped you make strides as an agent during the initial few months and first year. This caused you to rise in rank quite quickly, making you go on more solo missions or accompanying Galahad or Percival whenever they needed assistance. Today, you’re helping your uncle instead, hacking into some cameras and security networks so he’ll be able to tell Lancelot and Galahad where to go next and what they should be looking out for. It’s something you do from time to time, mostly upon Merlin’s request when he finds the mission too complicated to oversee on his own.

‘The main control room should be south from where they are now.’ You pull up the map on the big screen which hangs in front of you and Merlin, pointing out where Galahad and Lancelot should be going next. As he’s relaying the information to the other men, you hack into the mainframe the criminal organisation and start going through the different files. ‘Any updates about the nuclear files?’ Galahad’s voice comes through the speakers and Merlin looks at you. ‘Working on it. Just focus on getting to that room.’ The screen in front of you shows Lancelot’s feed. He’s following Galahad through the many hallways and twists and turns they take, taking down guards whenever they come across them. Their moves are deliberate, quick and efficient. You turn back to your screen and after a few minutes you’re finally able to access the file Galahad had asked for. ‘I’m sending you the file now, Galahad.’ ‘Thanks Tristan.’ He replies. They have finally reached the door to the control room. Lancelot holds his watch against it and it opens. Silently, the two men enter the room. ‘Lancelot, I need you to connect us to the controls.’ Merlin states and the other man follows the order. Your screens fill with the necessary information and you start working on fully disarming and disabling  the system. ‘Galahad, please flip the green switch on your right.’ You request. Before he can really do so, a loud bang interrupts him, followed by the sound of shots. ‘Lancelot, you take those men while Galahad follows Tristan’s orders.’ Merlin’s Scottish accent seems thicker momentarily. You’ve noticed it only really happened when he was in more stressful situations; one time when you almost got kidnapped, it was so thick you could barely understand him despite having a mostly Scottish family. Calmly, you instruct Galahad what buttons to press and switches to flip. After a few minutes of him following your lead as you type away at your computer, you’re done. ‘Galahad. Lancelot. The system has fully been disabled and disarmed. Get back to the jet.’ They start running through the building and Merlin glances at you, giving you a small smile before going back to helping them follow the quickest route out of the building. 

‘You did well, Tristan.’ Merlin ruffles your hair and you smile at him. ‘Thanks. You didn’t do too badly yourself, old man.’ He laughs and lightly punches your arm. ‘I’m not that old, your mother is 10 years older than I am.’ You snort and teasingly say, ‘And you Merlin, are 12 years older than I am.’ After that comment, a comfortable silence settles between you. There were a few more tasks you had to complete before tomorrow, so you decided you would spend the evening and night at the mansion.  About an hour after the mission finished, Merlin leaves, leaving you alone in front of the large screen filled with documents. Quietly, you continue working for a few more hours before you call it a night. You’d finished your side of the report, only needing Galahad and Lancelot for the final few details. You’ll probably ask them about those during the debrief tomorrow afternoon. 

Once you’ve locked your computer and turned off all the lights, you silently walk to the kitchen, where you start making a pot of tea. The room is dark, as you only turned on the light above the stove. A sound from behind you catches your attention. Looking back, you see that your two colleagues have just returned from their mission. ‘Evening gentlemen.’ You greet them. ‘Tristan, good evening.’ Galahad walks up and stands next to you, just as the water starts boiling. ‘Would you like a cup?’ Your hands continue moving, putting in the tea egg to let the leaves steep. He hums in response as he grabs two more cups. ‘Chamomile?’ Galahad quietly asks and you nod. A comfortable silence settles between the two of you while Lancelot leaves the room momentarily to put some of their things away. Once the tea has sufficiently gained colour and flavour, you pour some into the three cups. Grabbing your own, you sit down next to the chair you’d draped your suit jacket over. Harry sits down across from you and puts down Lancelot’s cup next to him. You both quietly drink your tea, your eyes scanning that day’s paper. When you look up, you notice his eyes are trained on you, making you a bit nervous. Before you can say anything, though, Lancelot walks back in and starts talking about their flight back to England and the newest Royal scandal of the week. The other man’s attention shifts to his colleague who is talking excitedly. Your eyes scan Galahad’s features. He is handsome, smart, quick-witted, and a gentleman. A combination which has led you to, over time, develop a bit of a crush on your colleague. 

‘Tristan, what do you think?’

You turn your head to face the other man. ‘I think the situation escalated unnecessarily, had the royal family handled it properly, this would’ve never become public.’ He smiles and Galahad interjects. ‘I agree with Tristan, this situation could have easily been avoided.’ The two men continue talking and you sip your tea.  ‘Gentlemen, I’m heading off to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow morning at the debrief.’ You stand up and put your cup into the dishwasher. It was already 11 o’clock. ‘Tristan,’ Galahad stands up, ‘if you’ll allow me, I’ll walk you back to your room.’ Smiling, you nod. ‘Of course Galahad; thank you.’ He leaves the room with you and as you walk, he leans sideways in your direction and whispers. ‘Thanks Tristan. I was a bit tired of Lancelot talking. He’s been going without pause from the moment we got on the jet.’ It didn’t surprise you in the least. ‘Of course Galahad. Lancelot tends to talk quite a lot; I suspect his favourite sound may be his own voice.’ He snorts. ‘I suspect you might be correct.’ The hallways are silent except for your quiet footsteps and conversation. The distance between the two of you seems to become smaller as you continue walking and talking; until you stop in front of your door. ‘Galahad, thank you for accompanying me.’ You turn to face him and smile. ‘Of course Tristan, it was my pleasure.’ His voice was quiet. The silence between you is tense and Harry seems to slowly be leaning closer as he holds your eye contact. Moments, which feel like hours pass, but he doesn’t make a move. Your noses almost touch when he seems to snap out of a sort of trance and clears his throat, pulling back quickly. ‘Ah Tristan, I should get going. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll see you tomorrow.’ As he walks away, you stand frozen in your doorway.

The following morning you watch the sunrise outside, a hot cup of coffee in your hand. It seems no one else is up yet. You’ve left your suit jacket in your room and have your sleeves rolled up, the crisp air touching your form. Behind you, you hear your dog walking and sniffing around. ‘Ares.’ The Doberman walks to your side. ‘Want to go for a walk?’ He barks and you pet him behind his ears. ‘Let’s go.’ You smile and he runs into the field in front of you, with you following calmly. Upon your return, you’re greeted by Merlin, who looks to have woken up not too long ago. ‘Morning Tristan.’ Ares excitedly runs up to the Scot. ‘Morning to you too Ares.’ He puts down his coffee and pets the dog with both his hands. ‘You’ve got an awful lot of energy today, haven’t you?’ ‘He really does, he’s been running around for over an hour already.’ You laugh. ‘I’ll bring Albion to play with him later today.’ He takes a sip of his coffee. ‘I’ll be back momentarily, can you watch Ares for a second?’ He nods. ‘Thanks.’ you say and smile at him. You walk into the kitchen through the open doors. Putting down your cup, you start brewing another cup of coffee. The kitchen is still quiet, but you know that more of the agents that have stayed the night will probably start walking in soon, though it probably won’t be many. Lancelot and Galahad you knew for sure, others you weren’t too certain about. ‘Morning Lancelot.’ You say as you hear the man walk in. ‘Agent Tristan.’ He greets. ‘Want some coffee?’ ‘Yes please.’ The smell of another fresh coffee fills the air. You smile as you hand him a cup. ‘You feeling alright?’ ‘I will once I finish this.’He groans before the two of you clink your cups. ‘See you at the briefing in an hour.’ 

You spent that hour with Merlin and Ares, mostly in silence. The Doberman is as happy as can be, with the Scot and you taking turns throwing a ball into the field and having the dog return it. It was nice spending time with your uncle like this. Usually you have to be  quite serious around him, as you mostly speak to him here, at Kingsman. Now, you can, even if it’s just for a moment, relax and have the relationship you used to have when you were younger and neither of you were a part of the secret service. ‘Uncle Hamish, we should probably get ready for the briefing.’ You say as Ares runs into the distance. He has his eyes closed, enjoying the warmth of the morning sun. ‘Just five more minutes; Galahad will be late anyway, he seemed a bit off yesterday evening when I saw him.’ That last comment piques your interest, but you decide not to pry. The meeting room was still empty when you walked into it with your uncle. A few minutes pass before, you are joined by Lancelot, who is, once again, talking excitedly. While you don’t necessarily have the energy for him, you stay professional and listen with intent. He is still talking your ears off when Galahad finally arrives, about five minutes late. Despite Merlin having made a comment, it is still quite unusual for him to be late. 

‘Glad you could join us, Agent Galahad.’ Merlin calls out from the far end of the room as the other man enters. ‘Terribly sorry for my tardiness.’ Harry excuses himself. ‘Morning Galahad.’ Lancelot greets him, instead you just wave at the agent. Everyone sits in their usual spots, with Galahad across from you and Merlin to your left, though he almost immediately stands up, walking in front of the screen which shows the most vital information related to the mission. Most of the information isn’t new to you, as you’d helped your uncle prepare. Whenever Galahad or Lancelot give additional information, which you hadn’t been able to gain before the meeting, you write it down into the report. Your attention is fully focussed on what everyone is saying, that is until you notice that Galahad’s eyes seem to linger on you a bit longer than usual whenever you make a comment. Eventually, his eyes meet yours. He quickly looks away and focuses on Merlin, who is saying something about the risks which may occur in the future. Yesterday’s mission has likely only slowed down the organisation, meaning that you’d still have to find its core and try to eliminate it. Still, all the new information which has been gained is quite useful. Your gaze reverts back to your laptop screen as you continue typing away. 

‘Agent Tristan, could you please explain to these gentlemen what you did to fully disarm and disable the system?’ Merlin’s sudden attention to you surprises you, but you stand up confidently and walk to his side. Galahad’s eyes seem to burn into the back of your head as you do so. ‘So how we did it is -’ Everything goes smoothly as you explain the process thoroughly to the other agents. Hopefully, you’ll be able to join them in the field next time, rather than having to sit and watch from the sidelines to assist them from a distance. You aren’t sure that’ll actually happen however, as it really depends on what kind of mission it’ll be and what is needed of you.  After a few minutes, you’re able to sit back down. Neither Lancelot, nor Galahad had any questions, which you assume is probably a good sign. There are only a few more things you need to discuss, with most of them only requiring only a little of your input from time to time, so you silently drink some tea as Lancelot and Merlin talk. Galahad is remarkably silent, only asking a few questions or making comments when he deems it necessary. Usually, he’s more talkative and tends to lead the conversation, but today he seems to have chosen to leave that to Lancelot. As your uncle is saying something about the implications of such an organisation having access to nuclear weapons, you feel another foot hit yours. At first, you ignore it; but when it happens again, you look around. It couldn’t be Merlin or Lancelot, leaving Galahad as the only suspect. You quickly look at his face but he acts as if he’s innocent. When you feel a third tap, you let your eyes meet his. The lines around his eyes crinkle mischievously, while the rest of his face doesn’t seem to change. You tap him back, your oxfords hitting the side of his silently. This time, his eyes do not divert to Merlin or Lancelot, and it almost feels as if you’re the only person in this room with him. The feeling is short lived however, with his gaze shifting away when his name is mentioned by one of the other men. Still, his foot remains in place, connecting the two of you. Despite the intimate gesture, his feelings for you remain unclear.

The meeting comes to an end, you and Galahad act as if nothing happened when you stand up. Everyone leaves the room and as he passes you, he slips a small folded note into your hand. You do not get a chance to read it though, as Merlin immediately starts up a conversation with you as you walk the wing of the mansion where the individual kingsman offices are located. ‘Tristan, could you send me the report after lunch?’ You nod. ‘As long as we’re going on a walk with Ares and Albion after, you know he’s missed you lately, and this morning wasn’t enough to make up for that.’ He laughs. ‘Of course.’ Together, you walk into Merlin’s office, where you quickly discuss the last few details before you leave for your own. There, you work on the report for a bit longer, adding the finishing touches before sending it to Merlin. Ares lays in the corner of your office, playing with one of his toys quietly. The folded piece of paper sits next to your keyboard, still not read. Once you’ve finally finished the report, you grab and slowly unfold it. Galahad’s handwriting is neat, but not delicate.

Tristan,

Meet me in the library at 21:00 tonight. 

Yours faithfully,

H

‘I suppose I’ll go read in the library tonight, Ares.’ You whisper before you put the note into your drawer and motion your dog to follow you to the kitchens to have lunch. He walks at your side when you enter, and calmly waits as you brew tea and make lunch. Once it’s ready, you decide to eat it outside, as the weather is quite nice today and Ares will be able to run around before you go for the walk with Merlin.  Half an hour passes before you’re joined by your uncle, who has his dog, Albion, with him. She’s a border collie who is usually quite serious and focused, but gets very excited when she gets to play with Ares. The two of them are best friends, so you and Merlin try to have them meet up and go on a long walk at least once a week. This doesn’t always happen though, as duty calls whenever it does, resulting in having to cancel quite frequently, which happened the past few weeks. Today isn't such a day though, and once you both finish your lunch, the four of you start walking your usual round around the grounds. You and Merlin chat away about anything and everything while Ares and Albion run around together and fetch a tennis ball from time to time. It’s calm and you’re enjoying yourself. It’s always quite nice to spend your time like this. All nice things must come to an end though, and after forty-five minutes of walking, you have to return to work.  ‘See you later Tristan.’ Merlin says before walking to his office, taking Albion with him. ‘Later.’ You wave before walking in the opposite direction. Galahad hadn’t been there when you returned from your walk, so you assume he’s at the shop to get a few things in order. It’s probably for the better, as you aren’t sure what you would do if you were to cross him in the hallway right now. He’s constantly giving you mixed signals. Yesterday, he seemed to lean in to kiss you before pulling away suddenly. Today, he almost continuously avoided your gaze, yet wanted to stay connected in some way that wasn’t visible to others, and he wrote you a note telling you to meet him later.

‘Fuck.’

You whisper to yourself. You’re falling for him, hard. You have been for a long time. You always told yourself it was merely a crush, but you’re unable to deny it any longer. This revelation isn’t your biggest problem though. Your biggest problem is whether he would even be interested, as he’s constantly giving those mixed signals. Tonight you’d decide whether you’ll ever act upon your feelings or not. You’d never particularly cared for the kingsman code which prohibits any relationships, though it hasn’t been necessary for you to break it either, as you hadn’t been interested in any relationships in the first place. Kingsman always comes first in your life. This means that you’ve never actually taken the time to think of finding a partner or date around. What you are worried about, is that Galahad is someone that always follows the rules and doesn’t even think about bending, let alone breaking, them. This may be an explanation for him being so hot and cold with you. Still, it’s confusing and worries you. ‘Good afternoon agent Tristan, is everything alright?’ Arthur greeting you pulls you out of your thoughts and you realise you’re standing in front of the door which leads into your office, your hand on the doorknob. You have probably been standing there for a couple of minutes now. Quickly you turn the knob and start walking in.  ‘Ah yes Arthur, I was just lost in thought. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some paperwork to attend to.’  You smile at him before swiftly closing the door once Ares has entered the room as well. 

The evening couldn’t come soon enough. Thinking of whatever Galahad could possibly tell you continued racing through your mind the entire afternoon, meaning that you were quite distracted for the most part. Merlin visited you shortly before dinner to discuss the report and what he altered before sending it off to Arthur. While he clearly noticed that you were distracted, he decided against saying anything about it and left. Shortly thereafter, you decided it’d be a good idea to go for another walk with Ares, as it’s a good way of distancing yourself from the setting in which you usually see Galahad. This time, though, the walk lasts for several hours, with the sun starting to set once you start heading back to HQ.  When you arrive back at HQ, it’s nearly nine, so you decide to bring the Doberman to your office before heading to the library. Galahad, or Harry which you rarely ever refer to him as, is already there, waiting for you. He turns to face you and smiles when you enter before greeting you. ‘I’m glad you could make it agent Tristan.’ You nod nervously but try to sound casual. ‘Of course, any time, Galahad.’ His eyes look over your form and you do the same. The tension between the two of you is palpable but you try to ignore it as best as you can. For a moment, nothing happens. The both of you stay still, frozen in place.  Suddenly Galahad moves again and walks up to you. In a moment of passion, he grabs your face and kisses you deeply. It’s so intense it feels as if he’s bruising your lips. When you don’t move, he starts pulling back. Quickly, you pull him to you once more and kiss back, one of your hands in his hair and the other pulling his tie. The two of you fight for dominance and he pushes you against one of the bookshelves, his left hand now resting on your hip.  Eventually, he pulls away and rests his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed. For minutes, the two of you stand like this, silently enjoying each other's presence and closeness. ‘Tristan.’ He whispers. ‘Yes Galahad?’ The man sighs and slowly leaves your embrace. ‘Shit.’ You hear him mutter under his breath. ‘Shit shit shit.’ He backs away, as if he’s only just realised what happened. ‘Galahad, what’s going on?’ ‘I cannot do this Tristan.’ His voice sounds almost desperate. ‘Galahad, what do you mean you cannot do this?’ He doesn’t reply and walks away, leaving you alone in the library.

You didn’t see Galahad the rest of that week and you threw yourself into work, only leaving your office to go out with Ares. If you hadn’t had him, you probably wouldn’t have left your office in the first place. That Friday morning, Merlin comes in unannounced and finds you sleeping with your head on your desk. He wakes you and you slowly sit up straight. Your suit jacket is discarded somewhere in a corner and you look a bit of a mess with your hair all dishevelled.  ‘Are you sure you’re feeling alright Tristan? You really shouldn’t be overworking yourself.’ Your uncle asks you, he sounds quite worried. ‘I’m fine Merlin, I promise.’ He sighs. ‘You do not look or act as if you’re fine. What’s going on?’ You just shake your head. ‘It’s nothing really, I’ve just had to catch up on some work. Please don’t fret it.’  ‘We both know that’s a lie, Tristan. You’re always ahead of everyone when it comes to paperwork.’ He stops for a moment. ‘Look, both you and Galahad have been acting off all week and we can’t have that. I don’t know if there’s anything going on between the two of you, but I want you to fix it, especially if it’s affecting you like this.’ His voice is stern. ‘You should go talk to Galahad then, I’m not the guilty one here.’ You stand up for the first time in what feels like years, your knees and back hurting with every move. ‘I don’t have the energy for all this, go talk to him if you want to know more.’ Silently, you usher him out of your office and shut the door behind him. While you love your uncle, you really couldn’t deal with this right now.

The scotch in the corner of your office had been a little too appealing. That combined with the very limited amount of food you’d had over the past few days, made it very easy for you to become drunk. You sit in your chair feeling very sorry for yourself, as you do in such situations. ‘You know Ares, I’ll go talk to that asshole. He kisses me like that and then he avoids me all week. I suppose that’s not very gentlemanly of him.’ Standing up, you feel dizzy and you have to grab a hold of your desk to keep standing. The world seems to be turning and Ares looks to have multiple heads. ‘Fuck.’ You hadn’t realised how badly the scotch had affected you. Still, that didn’t stop you, and you stumble through your office door. The hallway is empty when you enter it, as is usual at this time of night in HQ. Galahad’s office is only a few doors down and you try to walk there as normally as you can. Taking a deep breath, you knock multiple times. When there’s no immediate answer, you knock again, but more loudly. ‘Galahad, I know you’re in there.’ Your voice is loud enough for him to hear on the other side of the door, but not loud enough to wake any of the other kingsmen. Though they probably wouldn’t wake up unless you screamed loudly enough for it to reach the other side of the estate. Moments pass, but the door is eventually opened by the agent. ‘Tristan.’ He greets you solemnly. ‘I need to talk to you, you pretentious asshole.’ The words fall out of your mouth and there is no stopping them. ‘You are no gentleman. You invite someone to talk to them alone after MONTHS, LITERAL MONTHS, of looking at each other longingly and flirting, then kiss them in the way you did and JUST WALK AWAY LIKE THAT?????’ He finally looks up at you and realises the state that you’re in. ‘WHAT IN THE HELLS IS WRONG WITH YOU INCOMPETENT PRICK????’ You jab your finger into his chest. ‘Tristan, you are in no state to discuss this, please go to bed.’ He grabs your hand. ‘YES I AM, I AM A GROWN ADULT THAT CAN MAKE THEIR OWN DECISIONS. YOU ARE NOT MY MOTHER.’ ‘Yes you are, but you’re currently incapable of making any good decisions. So, please quiet down before you wake up Mr. Pickle.’ Before you’re able to respond, he grabs you and surprisingly easily throws you over his shoulder. ‘Now, I’ll be escorting you to bed, as you don’t seem to be capable of doing that yourself.’ He completely ignores your protests, which continue for about five minutes before you realise there’s nothing you can do about this situation. He only puts you down when you’re in front of your bedroom door, as he needs you to open it. ‘I’m going to put you down, but please stay quiet. I don’t want you to wake everyone up.’ You nod and mutter to yourself as he puts you down. ‘Still an asshole though.’ He laughs to himself. When you finally have both your feet on the ground again, you’re stable momentarily before you start falling over again. Galahad notices and steadies you by grabbing your shoulders. ‘Careful now, sweetness.’ His lips touch the shell of your ear and you slowly feel yourself going red. You ignore it though, steadying yourself with his help before walking to your door and unlocking it. When you try to open it you almost fall into your own room and so Harry catches you, before the world around you slowly goes dark.

The following morning you wake up in your own bed, not remembering how you got there in the first place. Ares sits next to your bed, looking up at you as you wake. ‘Morning, my boy.’ Your voice sounds more like a groan than anything else. He nudges your arm and softly barks when you eventually sit up. The light hurts your eyes as you look around, so you close your eyes and lay back down. Once you finally open them again, you notice that there’s a glass of water and a pack of paracetamol next to your bed. ‘Who put that there?’ You look at Ares and pet him before taking one of the pills followed by a gulp of water. The headache you have is slowly driving you insane, so hopefully this’ll help. Still, it remains unclear who actually put it there after probably finding you in quite the state. Usually, you could easily hold your liquor, but apparently your body had other plans yesterday. You do realise that you’re still in your clothes from the day before. So, you decide to get out of them and put on something more comfortable before calling Merlin. ‘Morning Merlin.’ Your voice is quite hoarse. ‘Ah Tristan, I was wondering when you’d call.’ He sounds quite amused for some unknown reason. ‘What do you mean?’ The Scot laughs. ‘Well, I got a notification earlier this morning that you’d be out of the office today because you’re ill. Thing is, agent Galahad is the one who notified me, which is a bit odd to be honest.’ You groan. ‘Well he’s right about me not feeling well.’ Slowly, you lay back in your bed.  Merlin didn’t talk to you for much longer after that and he remained quite vague about what Galahad had told him about the night before. Despite you desperately wanting to know what had happened the night before, you decided that would be a problem for tomorrow before heading back to sleep.

That night, a knock wakes you from your slumber. You almost jump out of your bed at the sound, scaring Ares a bit. ‘One moment please.’ You shout at the person behind the door before calming your dog. ‘I should take you out for a walk in a few, shouldn’t I? I’m so sorry Ares.’ After whispering that, you stand up and walk to your door. Opening it slowly, you reveal Merlin’s form. ‘Good evening Tristan.’ He smiles. ‘Thought I’d bring you some dinner.’ The tray he’s holding has a plate with a baked potato, some carrots and broccoli, and some beef, accompanied by a large glass of water and a cup of your favourite tea. He walks in once you’ve further opened your door, putting the tray on the small table that stands in the corner of your room. ‘Do sit down.’ His voice is soft. You do so silently, Ares laying down next to you. ‘Thank you.’ Your voice is soft and you start eating your first meal of the day. Merlin sits down across from you. ‘I do hope this was a one time thing, Tristan.’ He sighs and takes off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose with his other hand. ‘It won’t happen again, sir.’ Your voice can barely be heard from across the table. ‘Look, you’ve been doing flawlessly so far, so getting drunk and insulting go Galahad isn’t something that’ll affect you or your career in any way. It can, however, have an effect on how well you’re able to work with him in the foreseeable future.’ Your eyes don’t meet his. ‘Now that I’ve scolded you for getting drunk and acting in the way you did, I would like to know why. Harry hasn’t wanted to tell me anything and I’m against just checking your glasses if I can ask you.’ Your plate is only half finished but you’re already full and you put down your cutlery. ‘I’m not sure you want to know.’ Leaning back, you make yourself more comfortable in your chair. ‘Galahad has really said nothing?’ He shakes his head. ‘Well then, I suppose I’ll tell you what’s going on; under the condition that this will strictly stay between the two of us. Not even Galahad can know.’  ‘Why are you being so secretive about this?’ He enquires. ‘You’ll understand once you hear the full story. Now do you promise?’ You hold out your hand with your pinky ready for him to intertwine with. And he does. ‘I promise.’ A smile creeps onto  your face. This is something you’d always done with him when it comes to promises, starting when you were just a little kid. ‘So, as you may have noticed the past few weeks, there’s been some tension between me and Galahad, or Harry.’  You start. ‘But this has been an underlying issue for years now -‘ 

That night Merlin listened as you talked about how the situation between you and Galahad had unfolded over the past few years and more in detail about the past week or two. Understandably, it was quite a bit for him to take in, and at first he wasn’t certain how to feel or respond. If you hadn’t been who you are to him, he would’ve been fine with it. But with the familial ties you have, and the fact that he and Galahad are best friends, made him hesitate. Yet, he promises to keep quiet and have you and the other man resolve it by yourselves. He would, however, urge his friend to do so if the issue isn’t resolved within a week, meaning that you’ll have to hurry up when it comes to talking things out. He did make clear that he isn’t against you having a relationship with the older man, his tone may have even been slightly supportive, which was somewhat unexpected.

The next time you finally see Harry it’s Sunday. Exactly three days since you’d last seen him and had had the drunken encounter. There you stood, in front of his apartment, your heart pounding in your throat. He’d been at the shop the past few days while you were at the mansion. Merlin was quite convinced that Galahad was, in fact, avoiding you, so he’d suggested you go visit him that evening. Well, suggested was quite a loose term in this case. It was more that Merlin just dropped you off here and told you to ‘Go ahead and talk it out’. Obviously, this was his way of forcing you to do so, as he is quite sick of having the two of you avoiding each other.

Finally, you ring the doorbell and you stand there waiting nervously for Galahad to answer. He does after a few minutes and the confusion is quite evident on his face. When he doesn’t say anything, you start talking. ‘Sorry to bother you Galahad, but Merlin’s dropped me off so we can talk things out.’ You smile sheepishly and he sighs before letting you in.  You have never been inside his home before, so you look around curiously as he leads you into his kitchen. He was wearing his usual attire, save for the glasses. Apparently, he had been cooking dinner when you rang his doorbell. As you look around the room, not moving, he clears his throat. ‘Would you like to join me for dinner Tristan?’ The question is logical, yet you aren’t certain whether he actually wants you to join or if he’s asking it out of obligation. You’re hoping it’s the former rather than the latter. ‘If you don’t mind. Otherwise we can talk and then I’ll leave, I don’t wish to intrude Galahad.’ He motions you to sit down. ‘I would love for you to join me, I’m almost finished cooking dinner anyway, so do feel free to have a seat.’ When you do so, he turns around to face the stove once again before finishing dinner. It is a simple yet delicious meal, and you appreciate the gesture of him inviting you to join him. It is mostly spent in silence, save for a few comments appreciating his skill, or talking about the goings on at the shop and HQ. 

After dinner, Harry offers you a cup of tea before pouring one for himself and sitting down across from you. It is silent for a few minutes before he finally speaks again. ‘I would like to apologise.’ His voice is soft. ‘I should’ve handled this situation differently and not have run away in the way I did.’ As he says this, his eyes divert. ‘It is just that I was, and still am, quite uncertain of how to go about this. I do not wish to hurt you, but in my attempt to do so I did the opposite of what I had intended. I thought you were too pure, too kind. You’re too sweet, too sweet for a bitter man like me. Yet here I am, madly in love with you and confessing my feelings.’ When he finishes talking he looks you in the eye once more. There’s emotion in them, seemingly a mix of sadness and regret. ‘Galahad, I don’t know what to say.’ You pause. ‘I understand why you may have hesitated to approach me in the way you did, however, I am quite confused as to why you ran away so suddenly. You are the one that made the initial move and I never approached you because you were likely to have reservations about breaking kingsman code, yet you gave me hope by inviting me to the library to talk. And for a moment, when you kissed me, I thought we could be together, even if it was just for a moment.’ Slowly, you stand up from your chair. Putting down your cup of tea in the process. ‘Then you went ahead and ripped my heart out by walking away like that. As if I mean nothing to you, as if you weren’t the one that made the first move.’ You raise your voice a bit, but try to stay calm. Following your example, he stands up as well and starts walking towards you. ‘I truly am sorry but it is up to you whether or not you forgive me.’ He looks down into your eyes. ‘What will happen if I forgive you, Harry?’ The two of you are almost touching each other, only a few centimetres between your faces. ‘I shall take you on a date and be your partner. That is, if you’ll have me.’ Rather than answering him with words, you pull his tie and kiss him passionately.

[daydreaming-in-letters]

Feast

07/25/2024

Pairing: Vampire!Hozier x reader

Word Count: 7,286

Warnings: vampire au, language, alcohol, blood, blood sucking, thoughts about unaliving oneself, fingering, light choking, oral (f receiving), penetration (also the reader is female and has hair covering their neck)

Summary: You had heard rumours about the man living in the old mansion down Hollows Lane. Gruesome ones. Enticing ones. Little did you know they were all true.

A/N: I blame hoztwt and my undying vampire kink for this.

Picture found on Pinterest

If you enjoy my story, liking is great, but leaving a comment or reblogging is the stuff that keeps me going. No permission is given to copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

 There were rumours about the man living down Hollows Lane. Gruesome ones. The first time you had heard them, you had laughed out loud. A simple prank, you had thought, gone by the end of the month. But they just did not stop. 

There were also other rumours. Enticing ones. The man was a seducer, they said, a master of his art, and he knew how to have a good time. You had heard women gushing about his talent, about how they had never been satisfied like that before. It was almost too good to be true. Especially since all he wanted in return was a tasty meal. 

A small price to pay if the rumours about his unearthly qualities were true. And as soon as the thought had manifested in your mind, your ears picked up the deep roll of thunder in the distance. A warning, maybe. Probably not. Still it was enough to make you trip and stumble a few steps forward. With a deep breath you steadied yourself, pressing the basket of food you carried to your chest. Just one more turn, one more road to walk down. You could already make out the roof of the grand mansion at the far end. There was a whisper, carried on the breeze, as if it was calling you, a ridiculous thought, you chided yourself, but still your feet had picked up their pace again, the determined clicking of your heels on the pavement the only noise in the lamplit street. 

Finally you reached the iron gate and its signature creak brought back memories from the first time you had walked up to his doorstep. You had been so nervous, almost dying inside from anticipation and anxiety alike. 

You had no idea how this was supposed to work. All you had was some kind of code word you were expected to say to him. 

The large door knocker felt heavy and ice cold as you lifted it and brought it down three times. For a long while, almost an eternity, nothing happened, and you were about to turn around and leave when finally the dark wood in front of you moved. And there he was. He was even more beautiful than the women had described and you doubted there were words in any language to do the looks of this man justice. 

“Can I help you?”

He just stood there, waiting, glancing down at you as he towered in the doorway, but that was all it took to stun you into complete silence. Your mouth felt utterly dry, your tongue too heavy to move even if the code was short and easy to remember. 

“Are you quite well?”

At least you managed to nod and that seemed to please him somehow. 

“What’s your name?”

“Y/N,” you blurted out, your brain happy to start with something simple. 

“Pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”

He held out his hand to you and you took it without hesitation. It was soft and warm and his touch almost had you miss out on the moment when he drew in a sharp breath, his upper lip quivering strangely, but it was gone as fast as it had appeared and soon you doubted whether it had been real or just a product of your shell-shocked brain.

“Do you want to come in?”

“Yes! I mean, no. I—” One eyebrow shooting up, he observed you carefully as you stumbled across your own words. “I’m sorry. I am so nervous and I have no idea how this works.”

“I can see that,” he chuckled. “But there is no need to be nervous. Just tell me the words and you’ll be fine.”

His green eyes were so calming as they seemed to stare right into your soul. It should have worried you, should it not, that he seemed to be able to glance at the deepest, most well-hidden parts of you so easily, but instead you felt yourself relax under his gaze. 

“Carpe noctem,” you finally managed to pipe up.

“Good girl.”

His voice was low and raspy and you felt your walls tighten around agonising nothingness upon his words. He smirked, knowing full well what he was doing to you already and as much of a warning signal this should have been, it turned you on beyond reason. 

“Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” You shook your head. “And the rest of this will be just as easy, I promise. All you need to do is be back here on Saturday, exact same time. Dress to your liking, I want you to feel as comfortable as possible. And bring all the ingredients to your favourite meal.”

You nodded mechanically.

“Are you sure you got it?”

“Got it.”

Gosh, why were you like this? Why could you not just be chill about this? You were embarrassing yourself in front of a man who would supposedly shag the brains out of you this Saturday if one could trust the rumours in this town for once. He on the other hand seemed completely unfazed, maybe even enjoying your flustered state, telling from the satisfied smile on his face. 

“Okay, see you on Saturday, then,” you were quick to end this torment, even waving stupidly at him as if you had not already done enough to traumatise yourself. But he was just as quick as he caught your wrist mid-air, a movement too fast for your eyes to catch up and he did not even allow you a second to blink before you found yourself pressed up against his body, one arm slung around the small of your back to keep you in place. 

“Goodbye, angel,” he whispered, his breath mingling with yours in the tiny space that was left between your mouths, a space he was keen to erase completely as he leaned in. His kiss was featherlight, making you doubt once more whether this was actually happening or if his lips on yours were just another product of your delusional mind. All you knew was that it made your knees weak and you were very thankful that he was still tightly holding you. 

Even more so as a sharp sting shook you from your hazy state. Your lip. And the distinctive metal taste of blood. 

“What the hell was that?” you hissed in irritation, two fingers finding your lip and as you pulled them away, the dark red liquid was shimmering in the eerie light of the evening.

“Just a little appetiser.”

You wanted to protest, to tell him off, but once again you found yourself rendered speechless by this man. And he knew how to use your petrified state as a strong hand wrapped around yours, holding the fingers laced with blood in place, and then his mouth opened to take them in, licking them clean as he stared right into your eyes from underneath those impossibly long lashes. 

“Can’t wait for Saturday to come.”

You did not know how often you had gone over this scene in your head these past days. It made you shiver, every time, but even more than that, it made you want him, to a point that you started to question your sanity because you knew you would never find peace again if you did not have him. Just once. 

And so you had done exactly as he had told you. You had come back, Saturday, same time, wearing your favourite dress and heels, both red like your lipstick. The outfit was not really comfortable as he had suggested, but no other item of clothing in your wardrobe managed to make you feel yourself as much as this. And god knew you could use as much confidence as you were able to muster. 

In your hand you carried a basket full of ingredients for your meal, no matter how odd his request still seemed to you. Why would anyone see a self-made meal as a fitting price for…well…for what he was about to give you in return? Living in a home like that, he surely was wealthy enough to afford a cook if he did not want to prepare his own meals. Would that not be much easier and less risky than having to eat a surprise dish from someone who did not know half the time what they were doing? Maybe he had some weird food kink or it got him off to watch other people work for him. 

Whatever it was, he left you no time to think about the matter further as the door suddenly swung open. Your hand was still hovering awkwardly mid-air since you had just been reaching for the knocker. And it stayed there for a moment longer, your nervous system sent into overdrive as you took him in.

He was even more radiant in his gloom tonight, if that made any sense at all, but there were no better words to describe the pull he had on you. He was dressed in all black, jeans, denim jacket and shirt, which conveniently was not buttoned up to the collar, thus allowing a fine view of his fluffy chest. Different to your first meeting, he had decided to pull half of his hair back in a ponytail, allowing the rest of his curls to fall freely around his shoulders. He might have trimmed his beard a little as well, but you could not tell for sure, the memory of your last encounter still a bit blurry around the edges. 

But all that seemed secondary when he fished your hand out of its weird position and brought it to his lips for a gallant kiss.

“You’re back.” He was beaming, his eyes so full of joy that you almost believed he had doubted you would return. “Come in.”

He still held your hand, making a welcoming gesture with the other, waiting patiently for you to step inside. Another thunder rumbled through the night, louder this time, and you hurried to cross the doorstep. With a heavy thud, the door of the old mansion fell shut behind you, causing a violent shiver to run down your spine. And you could not help but feel like red riding hood in your dress, who had just entered the wolf’s den, fully knowing he would devour her. 

“Welcome to my home.”

And what a home it was. Dark wood and old carpets dominated the place, staircases wound their way upwards elegantly, leading to even more rooms that seemed wasted on one inhabitant alone. Oil paintings decorated the walls, portraits as well as landscape scenes of places far and near, and here and there antiques caught the eye, collector’s pieces, possibly, or family memorabilia, passed down from generation to generation. And as if that had not been enough to remind you of those old gothic movies, the whole house seemed to be covered in a sheen of gloomy, flickering light, as if it was solely lit by candles. But of course that was ridiculous, nobody sane would rely on candles today instead of electricity. It must be some of those ultra-realistic LED candles that sat on the chandeliers and candelabras you passed by on your way as he lead you deeper into his lair.

To your great relief his kitchen was up to modern standards, at least far more modern than the rest of the house seemed to be and you thanked the heavens for that. Even the thought of having to cook in a kettle over an open fire doubled your nervousness in an instant. 

You did not speak much as you went to work, but you knew you had his full attention. You could feel his eyes on you, observing your every move, following you around as you tried to concentrate so you would not mess up dinner. An impossible task, it seemed, but what could you do? Sending him away was rude and out of the question. This was his home, you had come here of your own free will, knowing full well the terms of this deal, and if you wanted your needs satisfied, you would satisfy his, even it meant to have your every move studied.

“Wine?” 

You almost jumped out of your skin. He was so close, his voice coming from right beside your ear. Accompanying his words, he pushed a glass of red wine into your periphery. You hummed in affirmation as you took the drink from his hand. Eagerly you set it to your lips, gulping down a swig and then another as you found it did nothing to end the sudden drought in your throat. And yet you found yourself leaning back against him the moment his hands found you. One was careful to brush away the hair from your shoulder, while the other tenderly glided up and down your arm. You felt his chest move as he inhaled deeply, bringing you even closer, letting the deep vibration of his satisfied hum take hold of you too. 

“Mouthwatering,” he concluded, and he was already pulling away, the last you felt of him the brush of his fingertips against your neck. 

He must have lied to you, a white lie, but totally unnecessary as he did not seem to intend in the least to eat the meal you had prepared for the both of you. He sat across from you at a table that felt uncomfortably large at a dinner for two, twisting a glass of wine in his hand. Yet he was neither drinking nor touching the food on his plate.

“Are you not hungry?” you inquired, already unable to hide the miffed undertone in your voice.

“I am,” he stated plainly as if your question had been obsolete, as if in fact your question was the confusing bit of this conversation and not his totally antithetic behaviour.

“Is the food not to your liking then?” you refused to let him get away with it this easily. And as you waited for his answer, your fork dashed down to impale an innocent piece of vegetable.

“It looks delicious.”

He sported a smile, totally unfazed by the message of the little stunt you had pulled. If this man intended to seduce you by giving you the full boyfriend experience, even the aggravating and irritating parts, he would be in for a surprise tonight.

“Then why don’t you eat?”

“I will.” He had just finished his statement when lightning stroke, bathing the room in its cold, white light and for a second your heart stopped in your chest. It was only an instant, but the picture of him had been distorted completely, his mouth wide open, a pair of razor-sharp fangs glistening in the eerie light. 

You did not dare to blink, and still you must have, as only a moment later, everything was back to normal, he even continued speaking as if nothing had ever happened.

“All in due time, angel.”

Angel. He had called you that before. You had no idea what about you exactly made him think this was a fitting nickname for you. You certainly did not think of yourself as a being of light, and no one else before him ever had. Not that this was a bad thing, on the contrary. But what bothered you about it was the fact that he had already chosen a term of endearment for you, while you did not even know his name. 

“Will you at least tell me your name?”

Your voice sounded awfully strange to your own ears, a mixture of pouting and whining. It never sounded like that, not even in your lowest moments. And there had been quite a few of those.

“You can call me Andrew.”

“Andrew,” you repeated, letting his name roll over your tongue as if you were testing the sound, testing what it felt like to form the name with your mouth. It was not intentionally done, but when you looked up from your plate, you found his eyes already glued to you, and the hunger reflecting in those deep green orbs made you shiver in anticipation.

An anticipation you felt now more than ever, and it was threatening to drive you to insanity as you casually flicked through his record collection after dinner, trying very hard not to let your nerves get the best of you. You had moved to the living room now, or was it his music room? You had no idea, but the piano and the record collection let you assume as much. 

“This one.”

You pulled the LP from the shelf and handed it to him. Andrew was already waiting by the record player, taking it from you. 

“Great choice,” he commented. "Unbelievably talented musician, and an exceptional woman. You would have loved her.”

“You say that as if you knew her personally.”

“I did,” he stated as he found your gaze, and not for a second did you doubt that he was telling the absolute truth, however impossible it seemed. 

“How?” 

You watched him walk over to you, and you both knew that he would not answer your question. He did not need to. But instead of taking the last way out and run, you took the hand that was already waiting for you and nothing you had done in your life before had ever felt this right. 

There was just one question left to ask, you wanted to blurt it out and get it off your chest after it had pestered you for days, but you waited until you had both sat down on the chaise longue by the window. 

“So, ehm, how is this gonna go?” You were still holding his hand, your fingers playing with his as you spoke. “Do you want me to tell you what I like?”

“No.” His voice was like velvet. “There is no need to tell me. I will know.”

“Know how?”

He slowly detangled his fingers from yours, and when his eyes found yours again, something about them had changed.

“I can sense it, your desire.” His words had distracted you, allowing his hand to move unseen. It found you, found the sensitive spot of bare skin right above your knee. He did not even have to look and had found his aim still, making you suck in a sharp breath of air as his warmth seeped into your skin, gliding higher and higher up your thigh until his hand had vanished underneath the hem of your dress completely. “I can sense what brings you pleasure.”

Your eyes must have fallen closed under his gentle caress, and yet the touch of his lips did not startle you as they found the outline of your jaw. He moved slowly, placing featherlight kiss after kiss along the path to your ear.

This was the moment. It had come at last. Time to give him his part of the bargain. And so you brushed your hair aside, craning your neck to allow him full access. 

“Not yet, angel,” he whispered, his lips brushing your ear, “not yet.”

Instead of the teeth you had awaited, his palm settled on the most delicate spot you had offered him. He placed it right above your pulse, claiming what was his to take whenever he desired. He could probably feel it, feel the blood rush through you, and the thought was enough to coax a soft sigh from your throat.

But your pulse against his fingertips was not the only thing he could sense. Above it all he heard it, loud and clear, the thunderous drum behind your ribs, as if your heart was waiting for the right moment to break free. That would not be necessary. There were other ways to free you.

You moaned, a sound that warmed his icy heart, and when he let his hand glide up your thigh, your legs fell open for him. He blindly followed the moist heat, his eyes never leaving your beautiful face, watching as you slowly let go. Soon you would be lost to the world, your world, and would become part of his instead. He was just about to tear the last barrier, fisting the exquisite fabric, he gave it a harsh tug and there was nothing left between you and him any more.

You were so soft, softer as the finest silk, and the moan that fell from your lips when his fingers dove in between your silky lips to spread the slick that awaited him was so sinful it almost swayed him to allow himself a little taste of you. But he knew better than that. The wait would only heighten his enjoyment. He would not let his ravenous thirst ruin that for him. 

Your head sank back as he slowly slipped inside of you, exposing even more of your neck as another sinful sound broke from your lips. This was impossible, he needed to do something, to silence you for a while until he had gathered enough strength to withstand the urge to sink his teeth into you and suck you dry. And so he pushed his thumb past your lips until he felt your tongue press against it, sucking it in deeper. 

Soon he had found the right rhythm, pumping in and out of you, crooking his fingers every now and then to brush along that sensitive spot inside of you. He loved how the stimulation made your breath hitch in your throat, how your eyelids fluttered in that tiny moment of pure pleasure. It drove him wild, to play you like that, and for a second he forgot himself, his thumb gliding out of your mouth to squeeze that frail neck of yours. 

He let go immediately when he heard your heart skip a beat, it had startled him, but your whine came instantly, eyes flying open to find his, begging him silently to do it again. And who was he to deny you your pleasure? So he squeezed again, lightly at first, then harder until your hand grabbed the collar of his jacket, your back arching as you pulled yourself closer to him. 

You were close, so close, and he wondered…Tilting your head back, he dove into the crook of your neck, his tongue darting out to lick along the prominent vein. He could taste your pulse against his tongue, taste the sweetness of his triumph as he felt your walls clenching down on his fingers. Just one more step, one more ace up his sleeve to drive you over the edge. He knew you could feel it, feel the slight sting as his fangs brushed along your neck, teasing the skin they would soon break, a promise so ardent it left you no choice but to come with a desperate shout. 

He held you as you trembled and shook, riding out your high against his fingers. You were enchanting in your rapture and it was in this very moment that he vowed to give you everything you wanted, he would cater to your wants and needs until you felt you could take no more. 

He had never understood those who got high on striking fear into the hearts of their blood donors. Fear only staled the taste, while satisfaction heightened it. All those hormones, serotonin, oxytocin, prolactin, dopamine, adrenaline, mixing to form the most delicious concoction. 

But there was something more to it. The truth was, he liked giving something back. It made him feel less guilty about what he had to do to survive. He had not really chosen this life, well, he had, but he had been young and in love and full of hope that sharing eternity with her, the one who had turned him, would be worth it. It had not even lasted a decade before she had tired of him. Apparently commitment was not only difficult for beings with a limited lifespan. 

But with her gone, everything had seemed pointless in the beginning. All the things he had given up to share this life with her, he missed them terribly. And he loathed the killing, the never ending thirst. He had thought about ending it, numerous times, but he had always found more reason to hold on. And with a few alterations of the rules, he had also found a way to make it work.

He did not kill anymore. There really was no need to. Except for the fact that there were no witnesses if he did. Still, it was possible to survive on smaller portions of blood. He needed to feed more often then, which in turn increased the risk of getting caught. And so he had come up with this transactional system over time.

It was as easy as it was effective: he gave them what they wanted, and in return he could feast. Before he let them go, he made sure to erase certain memories of the shared time, and since he was good at his side of the transaction, they came back freely.

But this right here, you, you were more than a transaction. It had been nothing but a matter of business with the others, sex was just sex, a means to get what he wanted. But for the first time in forever there was something more than hunger he wanted to sate. He wanted you, wanted a taste of what it felt like to be alive, truly alive, not just a slave to the never dying thirst. 

It had been a while, and he had been sure he had forgotten by now what it felt like, but with you, so full of life as you writhed with lust in his arms, he remembered everything. And he needed more of it.

You must have sensed it, that he was about to let go, and his punishment came promptly. “Andrew,” you whimpered, as if his absence was pure agony, and he hurried, moving with lightning speed as he disposed of his jacket and made his way down to the floor. He knelt between your legs, pushing up the red fabric to expose his next treat. He was ready to dive in, to devour you, lick you into oblivion, but the gentle touch of your hand as it cupped his cheek held him back. 

Your eyes were so soft, full of affection and he felt a sting in his chest as the thought crossed his mind that he did not deserve this. Not at all. He was merely using you and still… His lips pressed to your palm in a tender kiss. The gesture did not even remotely match the endearment your eyes held, but it would have to do, for now. 

And then you surprised him again. In the blink of an eye your eyes darkened, your hand moving into his hair, while the other pulled the red fabric even higher. And on your lips, those pillows of sinfully smeared red, formed a smile that would surely bring him to his knees if he was not already kneeling. 

Eager for the touch of his lips you pulled him the rest of the way and his mouth found you with a moan, as if you were the most exquisite he had ever tasted. But what did it matter what you were to him? To you, he was the best you had ever had, and he had not promised too much when he had claimed he would know how to please you. He did. Oh god, he did. 

Swirling his tongue, he drew small circles around your clit until tiny stars started dancing before your eyes. But he had no intention of ending this so soon, you knew, as his tongue slowly glided all the way down to your wet entrance, teasing you, just to glide back up. He repeated his sweet torture a few times, over and over, until you lost count. And just when you thought he would never stop this torment, his tongue dipped into you. Hooking his arms around your legs he pulled you closer, sinking even deeper into you. You keened, one long, drawn out cry of pure delectation. Both of your hands had vanished into his hair by now, securing him right where he was. Not that you feared he would cease his endeavour, but you needed to feel him, needed to feel that this was real and not just a fever dream, your mind caught in divine delirium.

“Andrew,” you sighed breathlessly and for a second he stilled, dark eyes staring up at you, searching intently for any signs that you wanted him to stop. But you did not. Far from it. And so his eyes dipped back down, his upper lip quivering treacherously before his tongue darted out to lick one long stripe along your crevice. He sighed, eyes falling shut as he inhaled your scent, and you could feel your walls twitch upon the ferocity of his gesture. His forehead creased, nose scrunching as he bared his teeth, the two prominent fangs now unashamedly on display, and like a savage beast he leapt forward, to devour you properly. 

“Yes, yes,” you yelped, fingers tightening in his hair and he growled against you. “You’re gonna make me—” But you did not get to finish that sentence before your orgasm washed over you in a mighty wave, drowning out everything but you and him. Completely out of control, your legs wrapped around him, locking him up in the prison of your thighs where he still worked you, fervently, until your body went limp and your legs finally released him. 

Your eyes still closed, you could feel him, his kisses on the inside of your thighs, his movement as he left his spot between your legs, slowly crawling up your body while he covered it in more kisses, your hips, your stomach, your cleavage, your neck. You held him there for a while, relishing in the feeling of his mouth right there, right where it belonged, but all too soon for your liking he pulled away. 

Your tiny whine made him chuckle, and the most beautiful of smiles still curled his lips as he resurfaced from the crook of your neck.

“Should we take a little break?”

“Never.” Your answer was finite. You did not need a break. In fact it was the last thing you needed. There was something else you needed more than anything, and your fingers had already set out to get you exactly that. Skilfully they worked, opening button after button of his shirt, revealing more of that fuzzy chest. And now it was your turn to taste him, to kiss and lick that milky white skin while you kept on freeing him from his clothes. With a moan he sank against the back rest, one hand vanishing into your hair. He did not do anything, left it all to you, let you take what you wanted in your own sweet time. It was only when you had unfastened his belt and opened his trousers that he helped you shimmy them down his long legs. You had thought he would look more vulnerable once you had completely bared him, but there was nothing vulnerable about him. He was still exuding the same predatory power you had felt the moment you had first laid eyes on him and you knew you were damned for it, but it pulled you to him like a moth to a flame. 

“Turn around for me, angel,” he ordered and you did. Kneeling on the chaise longue, back turned to him, you melted into his touch as his fingers found the hidden zipper on your side. He was in no hurry to pull it down, allowing himself to revel in every inch of your skin that came to light, dragging one finger along it, all the way down to your hip, where he gathered the fabric in both of his hands and pulled it above your head. 

In an instant his hands were back on you, exploring your body. One arm hooked around his neck, you exposed yourself even further for him, and when he finally cupped your breasts, kneading them tenderly, playing with your hardened buds, you sank back against his chest. Wedged between you, resting right between the cheeks of your behind, you could feel him, all of him. And it was more than apparent that he wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

Carefully your hand moved through the tiny space between your bodies until you had found him. He hissed as your fingers closed around him, teeth sinking into your shoulder as you moved, slowly, stroking him, worshipping the silky hardness until it was not enough anymore to feel him like that. 

You guided him, bending forward until you could feel the gentle press of his head against your entrance. Lazily you dragged him up and down, coating him in the juices he had so expertly coaxed from you. 

“Fuck, angel, you are so wet.”

And with that you pushed your hips back, sinking him deep. Your reward was another growl that echoed through the silence. He was quick to pull you up against him, burying his face in your hair. He just held you like that for a while, enjoying your bodies in unity, his hand right above your heart, his breath drifting through your hair and down your neck, covering you in goosebumps. 

But then he came to life, his hips moving, slowly at first, then faster, and once he had found his rhythm, you knew you were lost to him. It was perfect, just perfect, the steady rocking of his hips, his hand following the call of your sex, vanishing between your thighs, while his other still held you, trailing up your chest until it had found your throat, gently applying just the right amount of pressure. There was no way you would last long. How could you with the amount of pleasure he coaxed from you, leading you towards your next high as if he had been born for that purpose alone. 

His lips found your ear, mouth falling open to lick along the bow it formed. “Come for me, angel. I know you want to.” And while he still whispered the redeeming words, you obeyed him once more. 

You would have tumbled and fallen from the might with which your high took hold of you, but he held you tight, mumbling soft words into your ear as you moaned and sighed and mewled like a possessed woman. Softly he pulled you back with him, moving your malleable body around until he had you straddling him, your head resting against his shoulder while his hand drifted soothingly up and down your back.

You had no idea how long the two of you had been sitting like this, your hand on his chest, his heartbeat steady underneath your fingertips, calming you until the fog that had clouded your mind had cleared. 

“I always thought vampires did not have a heartbeat,” you rambled as you pushed yourself off of him. 

Andrew smiled, like a mushy drunkard, you thought, and for a second the word besotted came to mind. But of course that was just you seeing things that were not there. And he made it so easy for you, this fantasy, even reaching for you to rest his hand against your cheek. 

“There is much for you to learn then.” 

And when he pulled you in for a kiss, you did not care anymore whether this was a fantasy or reality. Like a drug, his lips drowned it all out, the doubt, the white noise in your head, and made you focus on him alone, his mouth, kissing along your jaw, down your neck, rekindling the flame that had just cooled down to a faint glimmer in a heartbeat. 

“Andrew?” He hummed against your pulse, and you had to swallow hard, forcing down a moan, before you could continue. “Will you make me come again?”

He still did not leave his favourite spot, as if you had simply asked him for the time and not to fuck you again. “If that is what you want.”

It was. It was all you wanted, all you could think of right now. And since he made no inclination to give you what you wanted anytime soon, you reached for him. With a gasp you found him, still hard and ready for you. And as you guided him once more to where you needed to feel him, you told him about something else you wanted, something you longed for even more than for your next high. 

“I want you to come with me this time.” Your words finally made his mouth still, his head slowly coming back to light as you continued, “I want to feel it, want to feel you, deep inside, pulsing in your rapture.”

A growl rumbled deep in his chest, and there was something about his eyes that made you want to run, something wild, something carnal, something you could taste on his tongue as he pulled you in for another kiss, deep and searing, while he pushed up inside you in one sleek thrust. You pulled away in a gasp, panting heavily as you stared down at him. He had the audacity to smirk, his eyes darkening with every passing second.

“Go on then, angel. Make me come.”

As he spoke, his hands had grabbed your hips. He was guiding you now, the roll of your pelvis against his, just for a while, until he trusted you had overcome your surprise. And when you moved on your own, you could feel his hands wandering up the length of your back. His tenderness was misleading, your suspicion proven right as he dragged them back down harshly, his nails surely leaving trails in their wake. You keened upon the unexpected sensation, your head lulling back. And it seemed this was the moment he had been waiting for all along. Immediately his head dove down to your chest to claim his reward, sucking in your nipple like a starved man.

You felt as if you were falling, tumbling through the air while he kept on ravaging you. In a desperate attempt to save yourself, to grab onto something for dear life, your fingers found his hair again. You pulled and still he did not budge, tormenting your soft flesh until you were betrayed by your own body and he was rewarded with an unhinged twitch around his length. 

“It feels so good,” he moaned, and then it seemed you were not the only one who found herself betrayed by her own body when he confessed, “You feel so good.” 

And while you were still soaring on his declaration, however insignificant it might have been, he hit that one spot inside of you that made you clench even more violently than before. He moaned again, a low, guttural sound that made you quiver, and when your eyes locked with his, another smirk had found its way onto his lips. Like a bloodhound he had locked onto that spot that made you dizzy with desire, sending those tiny shocks through your body with every hit, they spread and pulsed, crawling along your skin until you could feel the racing beat of your heart underneath the thin layer of skin that covered your neck. 

He must have felt it too, one arm wrapping around you to pull you closer, while he used his free hand to brush away every last strand of hair from your shoulder. His gaze found you once more, and now the hunger was more apparent than ever, wafting through the dark pools of green, mixing, until they had lost all colour and you stared into pure darkness. 

Giving permission was easier than you had thought, it felt natural to nod, to watch his fangs grow to full size once he knew you did not oppose, to feel him grow inside you at the same time, and just as his teeth broke through your skin, he came, giving you everything he had while he took what he needed in return. 

You had feared it would be painful, but all you felt was pure bliss as he feasted on you, as he stilled the craving that he must have felt all night, stilled it on you. And as you gave yourself to him completely, you were carried away by the unexpected momentum of your high. You fell again, spiralling through a tunnel of colours that burst through the darkness around you. You felt light as a feather, but plunged down with the speed of a rock. And yet there was no room for fear. Not even as the colours began to fade and you were left with nothing but darkness. 

You were dizzy, almost delirious, fighting so hard to hold on to consciousness, and if you failed, it would be his fault entirely. It was not supposed to end like this, but you had tasted so good, so scrumptious, that your taste had sparked the faint hope he would finally be sated. An illusion, of course. This hunger would never end, but it had made him foolish, had made him take more than he usually did, almost too much. It had taken him everything to pull away, just in time, as it seemed.

A soft sigh came from the place against his chest where your head rested. He was still cradling you, softly rocking you back and forth after he had mumbled his futile apologies. You probably did not even hear them in the state you were in. The state he had put you in. 

He cursed himself as he carefully scooped you up into his arms. He usually did not let the donors stay over, never, that rule had not ever been broken before, but he did not care about rules anymore. What he cared about was you, and you needed rest.

Slowly he lowered you onto his bed before he laid down by your side, draping the sheets over you both. 

“Sleep, my angel, you deserve to rest.”

You looked so peaceful in your slumber, and he did not even question why his hand reached out for you. Lovingly, he brushed away a strand of hair that had fallen into your face, his fingertips gliding across your brow, your cheek. He wanted to touch your lips as well, but he was afraid he would wake you, and so he kept his distance, his fingers still tracing their form, even if he could not feel their silky touch. 

You were different. He had felt it all along, but it was only when he had tasted you, rich and warm on his tongue, that he had known for sure what it was that set you apart from all the others. You were what the likes of him called an old soul. One that had lived many lives and carried the wisdom of the centuries. Maybe that was why you had read him so easily. He was sure you had at least felt it from the beginning, what he was, and the fact that you had chosen to seek him out nonetheless still irritated him.

However odd all of this might seem, he was more than aware that finding an old soul—or being found by one—was a rare thing, especially today, when souls hardly lasted for one full lifetime. Maybe he should keep you, just for a while. To take care of you, your old soul and the body that housed it. Just to make sure the world would not lose another precious being like you. 

Metamorphosis (Sequel)

***

taglist:

@rosecentury

@lowkeysimpinloki

@fightmespideyboy

[brettsearpiercing]

playlist time babey

Hector playlist is here y'all........ my reasons are below the cut. It's numbered, please use the original order of the playlist for it to make sense hehe (it should start with his theme from the game and then go on with stranger than you dreamt it from phantom of the opera)

Hope you enjoy!!!!!!

VERY VERY VERY long post warning!!!!!!!!!

Literally his theme wym

LISTEN he’s so phantom coded y’all don’t UNDERSTANDDD PARTICULARLY THIS POTO SONG, when he gets angry at you if you see him in the attic without him asking you?? this is a bit more unhinged but I got FLASHBACKS

Listen hozier HAD to be here I bet hector blasts that shit while writing his erotica LIKEEE c’mon….

He’s not an elevator but he does go down IYKWIMMMMMM (I’m delusional sorry)

Title is self explainatory ALSO I saw @/hvacfucker write that he listens to grunge and stuff so I IMMEDIATELY thought about this banger. Also angst, man!!!!!!!!!!!! let him be angsty sometimes he deserves ittt :[

HE’S NOT AN INCEL Y’ALL it’s just….. the chorus……………. the comparing himself w/ others……………….. C’MONNN!!!!!!!

Same as before sorry SKHDFASHDFB I think he’d listen to both songs and somewhat relate but overall he’d be like ‘oh that’s a bit too much……’ but still think it’s a banger

SELF EXPLAINATORY. He’s just longing for the HO and thinking they’ll  never see him and even if they did…. ykwim

FIRST LATAM SONG UP IN THIS BITCH listen imma link the song translation to english ( https://www.letras.com/soda-stereo/321387/english.html ) because this man is FRONT AND CENTER of the ‘cannibalism as a way to express desire’ idea

ANOTHER ONE by soda stereo LISTEN cerati was onto SOMETHING. Also linking the translation ( https://www.letras.com/soda-stereo/37253/english.html ) yearning and eagerness to please ensues

ANOTHER ONE cerati won’t let me go…… anyway.  ( https://www.letras.com/soda-stereo/453853/english.html ) "BABY I’LL NEVER BE A SUPER-MAN" enough said.

Uuuuuuuuh yearning. A song about craving intimacy, emotional and physical. Also it’s really sweet, which just fits (this is me apologizing for the Descendents songs)

‘La gata bajo la lluvia’ I feel is an unskippable cutscene in every latine-with-an-unrequited-crush playlist,  so here it is.

YEARNING!!!!!!!!!!!

I’m not saying he’s a mitski fan, I’m just saying this song slaps and that he’d like this one in particular. I’m also not saying he’s NOT a mitski fan, because he would certainly relate, I just don’t know if he’d gravitate towards all her music

Yes I made him a the smiths listener SORRY DUDE IT WAS INESCAPABLE

The chorus. It’s on the nose, but I still think he’d cry a lil.

MORE HOZIER BABEYYYYYY yea this one was ALSO inescapable

This is, as we all should know, an artic monkeys song. I got the hozier version here tho because while he does strike me like an AM listener, i think this version is a bit more like him  idk it’s just my bias

He just fantasizes a lot, man

HE WANTS TO PLEASE DUDE HE’S A PLEASERRRRRRRRRR self explainatory.

I think he’d laugh at this one ngl ( https://www.letras.com/hombres-g/18338/english.html ) [CW use of a gay slur on this one.… it was the 80s, not much I can do.]

WE GOT SELENA UP IN THIS BIIIH this is definitely a guilty pleasure song for him. He’s getting down to selena LIKE ANY SELF RESPECTING PERSON C’MON NOW. Not including the translation because it’s not because of the lyrics but y’all can look it up :]

Uuuh nathy peluso did a cover of this one (and it SLAPS) but I feel he’d like this one more idk THE LYRICS ARE SO HIM ( https://www.letras.com/sesto-camilo/320465/english.html )

Another ‘I’m so in love wtf happened’ song ( https://www.letras.com/el-gran-combo/607257/english.html ) (the chorus is translated better as ‘you’ve performed witchcraft on me’, not ‘you made me witchcraft’…….  sorry I’m a teacher I have to nitpick these things)

Unskippable yearning song, sorry. Also THE SCENE FROM BOOK OF LIFE. It has nothing to do w/ hector but that film is very very cute look it up.

I didn’t know whether to add this one in because it sounds like he just wants to fuck but I still think this is lowkey how he perceives himself: thirsty and pathetic and taken by thoughts that he’s a bit ashamed of.

Sorry y’all I don’t think he’d beat us ASJBHDLAYISHDBHK I mean he’d TRY but I think he’d struggle a bit with it AT LEAST. Don’t get me wrong I do think he’s a 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴 but he’s a service switch through and through

I got the kurt cobain cover because I feel fits him better.  It sounds kind of home made too. Idk.

He’s so lonely y’all.

Haha, get it?

A classic.  I think he’d like the instrumental more than the lyrics but he still knows them by heart.

Haha, get it?

Tiktok song *the crowd boo’s me off the stage* it’s GROOVY and CUTE sorry

FIRST GORILLAZ SONG idk I just think he’d vibe with it.

Same w/this one, I just think it’s a vibe.

CHARGERRRRRRRRRR horny song go brrr

SELF EXPLAINATORY LIKE C’MON

Horny song go BRRRHJEVHVREWKJ

Ok I might add more sweet trip songs to the playlist (robotic sounds go CLANK CLANK CLANK) but yeah

Song about following orders and being loyal and taking care and being devoted OF COURSE I’m putting it here

Again. Gorillaz are here for the vibes mostly

On the nose BUT IT’S CUTE ok leave me be

I don’t think he’d lock the HO in the house and have them kill him, but I feel he would get jealous. I don’t think he’d make a big deal about it tho because ‘you’d be right to leave with someone else I mean look at me’ etc etc but he would get sad/scared. ( https://www.letras.com/rosalia/pienso-en-tu-mira/english.html )

Molotov my beloved I think this is just a silly thirsty song. He’d laugh I think. (could not find a full english translation for this one but it has an english verse so make the meaning out from that)

He feels as if you’ll leave him for someone better looking/whatever dude he’s in his feels

This one’s obvious I feel *I’m gnawing the bars of my enclosure*

HE IS A GOOD OLD FASHIONED LOVER BOY !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

He’s also a 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴

HE A FREAKKK idk this is a very horny song !!!!! ( https://www.letras.com/six-sex/tocame-part-dillom/english.html )

This is such a hector song through and through imo ( https://www.letras.com/dillom/cirugia/english.html )

Idk dude I think dirty dancing is a movie he might like.

HAD TO GET PARAMORE IN HERE SORRY

Self explanatory………….

OK I LOVE THIS at first I was like yeah he’s a pleaser this song fits BUT ALSOOOO the HO trying to get him to let himself be pampered LISTENNNNNN ( https://www.letras.com/miranda/743/english.html )

MORE CERATIIII I cannot be stopped sorry. ( https://www.letras.com/gustavo-cerati/400930/english.html ) “the end of loving is feeling more alive” C’MONNNNNNN

I just feel this is a BANGER dude. I’m projecting because I LOVE this song but it SLAPS.

“you’re a creep and she’s a belle” 'nuff said

This is just cute

This song is what I think a first kiss sounds like. Seemed fitting

 ANOTHER BANGER just for shits and giggles

SEX!!!!!!!!!!! ( https://www.letras.com/pescado-rabioso/1350324/english.html ) “hey tell me, baby. Where do you see something in me you don’t detest?” C’MONNN

Doja cat jumpscare but PLEASE SHOW HIM OFFF PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

LISTEN. An animatic where the other attic people try to cheer him up about the HO and try to get him to show his face. SOMEBODY help me. People who can actually do animatics I WILL GIVE YOU MY SOUL

He DOES like you a lot!!!!! ( https://www.letras.com/viejas-locas/217359/english.html ) “I’d like to shower you, dry you off and wash you again” is more johnny splash coded feel free to claim this, johnny splash nation

I just feel he’d like this one lmao

JUN TOGAWA IS A BIT TOO MUCH but he CAN come off as kind of creepy and even if this song is a bit violent by nature I think it still captures that well

The DRAMA in this song……. I feel he’d like it

(nice) “if you can’t sleep at all, and my memory is not enough come find me” LIKEEE

LISTEN TO THIS TELL ME IT’S NOT HECTOR CODED you’re lying

More soda stereo. This time: VOYEURISM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ( https://www.musixmatch.com/lyrics/Soda-Stereo/Persiana-americana/translation/english )

It’s just a slow romantic sexy yearning song….. “if you want me to, I’ll share my heart”

LISTEN. HE’S YEARNING AND LONGING AFTER THE HO ALL DAY YOU THINK HE DOESN’T HAVE DREAMS ?????????

WAITING FOR YOUR AFFECTION, WAITING FOR YOUUUUUUU so true

I WILL BY MITSKI taking care of your partner ALSO I think I read somewhere PLEASE TELL ME IF I’M WRONG LMAO that she wrote this thinking about what she’d like for someone to tell her and I think that fits BUT I’M NOT SURE THAT’S TRUE

Square because I WOULD HAVE OFFERED YOU ALL THAT YOU YEARNED FOR BUT I WAS STILL WAITING FOR SOMETHING TO EARN

HE WANTS TO DO THINGS TO THE HO!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“ I tried to be a charmer, got a bit hopeless instead” is kinda him but,  again, GORILLAZ IS HERE FOR THE VIBES

Stalker’s tango was mandatory

I FEEL LIKE meant to be yours would be like a romantic bad end. Still, a reaaaally hyperbolic vision of his adoration but idk

ARMS TONITE listen this man aims to please but the first time he puts his Thang ANYWHERE near the HO he’s coming in three thrust sand he WILL feel bad about it I’M SORRY

Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh………………………….. whoreknee

 TOM LEHRER THE MAN THAT YOU ARE this one was also mandatory sorry y’all

Another I suck and you’re divine song because you can never have too many ig

i think it’s a cute funny song about yearning and we gotta have that lighter side to all this

[elphabathropp-www]

So, my favourite non musical theatre related artist is Hozier. Love his voice, love his aesthetic, love his "I grew up in an aggressively Catholic country" trauma (which I share, being Brazilian) and I think he's the greatest poet of our generation.

I love how Hozier-coded Fiyeraba is. Andrew talks about love that is bigger than life, about never having enough of the woman you love, about how sex is a religious experience when you are that in love, about how not even death could keep him away from his lover.... Because tell me why Fiyero dedicated his entire life to find her and keep her safe, ran away with her without her even having to ask him to, literally went on a suicide mission (because he knew what was going to happen to him) just so that Elphaba could have a chance to be free, died a horrific death, got brought back to life through his lover's power, love and need for him and immediately started crawling his way back to her, not even caring that he couldn't walk properly with his new body, and then sent her THIS NOTE:

"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark, earth. No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her", anybody?!

Anyway, just me sharing some love for the greatest couple of all time, bare with me!

[npuppet]

LaDs rambles #6

Songs/mini playlists I think fit each LI + YouTube links (I don’t have Spotify)

‼️A lot of songs are explicit so listen at your own digression‼️

⭐️ are personal favorites (recommended)

(It starts out with overused Insta songs lol) (I branch into more niche songs out I promise)

Zayne:

Disease by Lady Gaga (obv) (“I could play the doctor, I can cure your disease, If you were a sinner I could make you believe”) (die Astra)

⭐️Digital Silence by Peter McPoland (what if Foreseer was in modern time and was a desperate to warn MC of her future?) (“They’re gonna blind date everyone until you love them too”)

Arcade by Duncan Laurence (“Loving you is a losing game” huh? Man)

Wash. by Bon Iver (“Where ice snaps and the hold clast are known”) (It just fits the calmness he has I dunno)

Changing of the Seasons by Two Door Cinema Club (not because he fell out of love with MC but he doesn’t seem to remember as much as the other LI’s) (“The door is open, you whispered to me, As you stood frozen in deep uncertainty”)

Christmas Kids by Roar (“The Christmas kids were nothing but a gift, And love is a tower where all of us can live”) (just thinking if Zayne did remember)

⭐️Cursed Romantics by Maude Latour (bc who said Zayne can’t be girlypop?) (“‘Cause I’m obsessive when you call me “baby”, Your love is poison and no don’t can save me”)

Heavy Eyes by Zach Bryan (I just know Zayne would have tired eyes if he didn’t deal with his myth trauma right) (“Remember all the days we had, I say it ain’t so bad, Keep those heavy eyes soft and kind”)

⭐️Am I Dreaming by Metro Boomin, A$AP Rocky and Roisee (Dawnbreaker and Zayne) (“One of a kind, one of one, the only one, Got one shot and one chance to take it once”)

Rest of the LI’s under the cut

Caleb:

Fourth of July by Sufjan Stevens (based on Caleb and MC being experimented on and MC dying over and over, tragic and existential) (“What could I have said to raise you from the dead?…And I’m sorry I left, but it was for the best, though it never felt right”) 🙂

⭐️i am not who i was by Chance Peña (“so if I fly to far, Will I still have a place inside your heart?…Will you love me for who I am not who I was”) (it’s him, it’s Caleb)

SPIT IN MY FACE! by ThxSoMch (man will do and tolerate anything to be with MC I mean) (“I don’t know what to say except you’re mine mine mine mine mine”)

⭐️Nobody’s Solider by Hozier (this song fits him like a glove, like his whole deal is that he’s trying to wrestle control back in his life) (“Holding my world together with a bootstring, Living the dream”)

Freaks by Surf Course (after he left MC in the explosion) (“My head is filled with parasites, Black holes cover up my eyes”)

Broken by lovelytheband (“I like that your lonely, Lonely like me, I could be lonely with you”) (our obsessive king)

⭐️Tangerine by Glass Animals (he would get on his knees anyways-) (“You only look at me properly now, When you’re drunk watching movies, Where are you? What happened?”)

Sweet Talk by Saint Motel (at this point I think I’m just giving him a degradation kink…) (“Yeah, well, I’m not scared, I’m not going nowhere, Yeah, you might want me to drop dead, but I dont even care”)

She Said No by BoyWithUke (mmm angsty) (“I don’t blame you, I hate me too, but I can’t, Do a lot to change it or the thoughts in my head”)

Sylus:

Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High by Arctic Monkeys (just based off of reckless MC) (“Incapable of making alright decisions, and having bad ideas”)

⭐️Like Him by Tyler the Creator (but very Dawnbreaker coded too so) (based on when MC got flashbacks in the story with Sylus but still doesn’t remember fully) (“How could I miss something that I’ve never had?”)

MILLION DOLLAR BABY by Tommy Richman (bc why not) (“I could clean up good for you, Oh, I know right from wrong”)

The World We Knew by Frank Sinatra (when MC went on a rampage after Sylus left, she’s real for that) (“Each road we took turned into gold, But the dream was too much for you to hold”)

Used to the Darkness by Des Rocs (just feels like Sylus)

Adventure of a Lifetime by Coldplay (ok but hear me out) (“I’m a dream that died by light of day, Gonna hold up half the sky and say, Only I own me”)

Bury Me Face Down by grandson (vengeful dragon) (“Wanted with a bounty on my head, But somehow someway, I’ma keep moving along”)

⭐️City on a Hill by Mon Rovîa (Sylus trying to comfort MC abt their past) (“Who was by your side, When the fire subsides, And it rains in your head?”)

⭐️Gold by Spandau Ballet (what was going through Sylus’ head when MC started to like him back lol) (“Nothing left to make me feel small, Luck has left me standing so tall”)

Rafayel:

Sex, Drugs, Etc. by Beach Weather (something I think he and MC should listen to on an open hood convertible kind of night by the sea) (“Dressing up for polaroids and cigarettes, Socilaize, romanticize the life”)

Softcore by The Neighborhood (kinda based off of the theory that Rafayel wears safety pins) (“You’ve been my muse for a long time, You get me through every dark night”)

⭐️All I Want by Kodaline (“When you said your last goodbye, I died a little bit inside”) (ow)

Here With Me by d4vd (another slow heartbreak song what’s new) (“I wish I could live through every memory again, Just one more time before we float off in the wind”)

Applause by Lady Gaga (bc I’m on a Lady Gaga binge lol) (“Pop culture was in art, now art’s in pop culture in me!”)

⭐️Blood // Water by grandson (I think alternative fits Rafayel) (“The price of your greed, your son, and your daughter”)

Drama by Spencer Sutherland (Raf is just feeling himself)

Love Me Less by MAX (I think it’s fitting since he’s not as forthright with his underground activities as Sylus is)

Xavier:

I Love You So by The Walters (I think it fits his 5* Outcast’s Voyage and just his story in general) (“I’m going to pack my things and leave you behind, This feelings old, and I know that I’ve made up my mind”)

Army Dreamers by Kate Bush (based on that the people who came with Xavier all had dreams but turned into Wanderers instead) (“We’ve a bunch of purple flowers to decorate a mammy’s hero”)

Towards the Sun by Rihanna (“Shadows chase me far from home, I remember when my heart was filled with gold”) (also funny that the movie this song is from is based on aliens lol)

⭐️When Will I See You Again by Shakka (song is literally made for my poor boy) (“Shooting stars never fly for me, My hearts on Mars, kinda hard to see”)

Alien Boy by Oliver Tree (just bc) (“I still make it work, But it’s overrated and somehow, played out”)

⭐️Are We Ready? (Wreck) by Two Door Cinema Club (I dunno sometimes the lyrics aligned with his story to me) (“I saw the world today, It comes in green and gray”)

Jealous by Eyedress (our jealous possessive king lol)

All LI’s:

Mind Over Matter (Reprise) by Young the Giant

Harpy Hare by Yarlokre (yup)

⭐️Chamber of Reflection by Mac DeMarco

her by JVKE

Again and Again by The Bird and the Bee (need I explain?)

ALL GIRLS ARE THE SAME by RØNIN (lmao)

⭐️Mr. Feel by John Michael Howell

can’t slow down by almost monday (kinda a song I imagine MC, Caleb, and Zayne playing on a roadtrip when they were younger)

Aphrodite by Ethan Gander (yearning my favorite (: )

We’ll Meet again by Very Lynn (obv)

MC lol:

Daydream by Gunter Kallmann Choir (MC and Sylus)

GONE, GONE / THANK YOU by Tyler the Creator (give girl a break yknow??)

Wasted Summers by juju<3 (after Caleb left her in the explosion)

I wanna be your lover by €CHO€D 4W4Y (yessir)

⭐️Apple by Charli xcx (once delulu, always delulu)

Sunshine by OneRepublic

Sick of Being Young by Krooked Kings

Feel free to leave ur songs u attribute to the LI’s ((:

[legitalicat]

Too Sweet - Modern!Aegon Targaryen ii x reader

AN: Hello my beautiful people! I hope you enjoy this story. It started as a little love note to the song "Too Sweet" by Hozier because I feel it's very Aegon coded. It then became kind of an amalgamation of a few different stories. My own story and journey with alcoholism and recovery played a big part in this, and as I wrote it parts of my feelings about my older brother, who is in active addiction, came into play. Please know that this is not everyone's story. Recovery from addiction looks different for most everyone. I truly overcame my addiction through building community and connections. I know many people who have to work a program to succeed. I know a person who actually did get a degree after a near lifetime of addiction and now he does a lot of things to help our local community in treating addiction. So really, this is a love letter to people like me and my brother. There is hope and I believe in every one of you.

Link to the TED Talk mentioned.

TW: blatant talks of alcoholism and substance abuse, talks of rehab, family issues, abusive family subtext yet never explicitly stated, gonna say it's kinda angsty, FLUFF

Pairings: Aegon Targaryen ii x reader

Word count: almost 3k

The soft pads of her feet made barely any noise as she walked into his bedroom, carrying a mug in each hand and wearing nothing but his MCR tee-shirt. Technically, they should both be in a deep sleep by now. It was fast approaching four in the morning and neither of them had bothered to close their eyes once. It was all he could to not hold her close in bed and stare at her captivating beauty.

When Aegon first saw her, weeks ago, he was stunned. It was the first time he had gone to the new bar right down the road from his apartment and it just so happened it was karaoke night. He had been tempted to turn around when he heard a horrendous rendition of his favorite Hozier song. But then she took the mic from her drunken friend, and it was as if the heavens parted and the gods showed him the future Mrs. Aegon Targaryen.

“Your coffee, sir,” she said to him as she handed him a mug. “No worries, it’s as black as your soul,” she added with a teasing grin.

“Thank you, beautiful,” he said as he took the mug from her.

She was truly a lesson in divinity for him. Aegon didn’t truly believe she was the most gorgeous woman on the planet. There would be people who would think she was average looks, maybe even less than that, but he didn’t need her to be more beautiful than anyone else. He wanted her exactly as she was. Beautiful like a spring day, teeming with beauty in the most natural of ways. Like one would think of a cherry blossom tree, or their favorite flower. Simple and breathtaking, a reminder of life and truth on a fundamental level.

He knew it the moment they locked eyes in that bar. Her voice shook from nerves as she sang in front of the crowd of strangers. When she looked at him, and he at her, he felt joyful for the first time in years. All of the stupid shit with his family, the years of drowning his sorrows in whiskey and wine and any other drug, none of it mattered.

If he were honest, he couldn’t remember how he got so lucky. He knew he approached her once she was done singing and complimented her. By the end of the night she was nestled beside him in bed, and he’d be damned if he ever let her leave.

“Gods, you’re amazing,” he muttered as he watched her. He knew she was drinking hot chocolate, finding the taste of coffee much too bitter.

“What was that?” she asked him when she pulled the mug away from her face. She had a bit of whipped cream on her upper lip, making his heart feel like it was on the brim of exploding.

He leaned forward, just barely, and lifted his hand to wipe the cream away with his thumb. She gave him a cute little smile when it brushed against her lips, puckering them to press a kiss to his skin. When he pulled his hand away and sucked the cream off, he heard her giggle.

“This is why you’re so sweet. Where most people drink whiskey and coffee, you put sugar in your sugar and drink it until the sun comes up,” he told her. Of course, he was teasing her.

“Because unlike you, Mr. Listen to Sad Music Even When I’m Happy, I like to enjoy things. The good things. The sweet things, like whipped cream and hot chocolate and fruit loops in bed on Saturday mornings. I just think I live a better life than you,” she told him. She was grinning from ear to ear.

If Aegon wasn’t so afraid of rejection, he would tell her how he loved her. He loved that she wanted to eat sweets at all times. He loved that she teased him for listening to My Chemical Romance or Asking Alexandria, calling it all sad music, even when she would listen right alongside him. He loved that she would start crying at the Wonka movie near the end, unashamed about feeling overwhelmed by the backstory.

If he weren’t so afraid she didn’t love him, he would tell her. He knew it had only been a few weeks, that all logic points to love at first sight being nothing more than him just getting turned on by her appearance. But how could he not love her when she sat in bed with him like this after making him a cup of coffee before the sun had even risen? How could one resist the gentleness of her touch when they watched TV together and she insisted on holding his hand? How could he be expected to watch her hyper fixate on a book or a video game, talking about it for hours on end with so much passion she always ended up wound up and breathless?

“You’re too sweet for me,” he told her as he laid back against the head board. He gently pulled her into his side, wanting to have her as close as humanly possible.

His words were met with an amused chuckle. She didn’t fight his hold on her, instead melting into him as though it was where she had always been.

“Tell me about your family,” she said quietly. “I mean, I’ve not been further than ten feet from you for weeks and you haven’t said the first word about them.”

He could feel his jaw clench as she asked him. His family was a complicated and sensitive subject. Even though he wished he never had to speak to her about them, he knew he had to if he had any hopes of them becoming more than just a passion fueled fling.

“Not much to really say. Dad ran Draconic Industries. My older sister, Rhaenyra, is my dad’s daughter with his first wife. He made her next in line to take over the business. Me, my younger siblings, even my mom, we never really mattered much to dear old dad. He died when I was nineteen. I don’t really matter much to any of the rest of them,” he told her, tracing shapes on her bare thigh as he spoke.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” she said quickly.

“It is,” he told her without any uncertainty. “Helaena, my younger sister, hasn’t spoken to me in a few years either. I haven’t spoke to my youngest brother Daeron since we were kids. And my brother Aemond…he was the last to hold out hope for me and I burned that to the ground a long time ago. I think it’s been at least a year. My mom completely disowned me about four years ago, when I was around twenty-two, cause I refused to go to rehab again.”

She frowned softly but said nothing. He could only imagine what was going through her head at this point. If roles were reversed, he would probably be planning his exit strategy. All it felt like he told her was a sob story about a poor rich kid who can’t live off mommy and daddy anymore. He felt pathetic.

“What did you go to rehab for?” she asked him.

“Started partying when I was like twelve. Alcoholic by age fourteen. Lead to worse shit, as it does, and I overdosed when I was eighteen on some coke. My mom and grandfather checked me into rehab the following week. Have done two more stints since. Never really stuck, and I haven’t been sober for more than a few days since I was like fifteen.”

He was laying in all our there for her. He wanted her to know so she could decide if she thought he was worth the trouble. He couldn’t blame her if she ran away from him. Why would she stick around? All of his family had washed their hands of him and they were family. She was just someone he met in a bar a few weeks before.

She stayed quiet for a long time. Longer than he would’ve liked. The silence weighed on his heart like an elephant pressing against his chest. He wanted to beg her to say something, anything, just so he knew where her head was at.

Though, he noticed, she didn’t move away from him. She stayed right there, comfortable tucked into his side, occasionally sipping her hot chocolate. His own mug, still filled with coffee, had gone near forgotten in his hand. He was too focused on her.

“You know, the opposite of addiction is connection. Watched a TED Talk one time about it. They found when addicts are treated like people instead of criminals, integrating them into society instead of isolating them, they show less of a struggle with addictions. Allow their basic needs to be met, give them a community, and they thrive,” she said softly after several moments.

She sat up, her warmth leaving him. He felt lonely without her touching him even though she was still well within arm’s reach. She was all he wanted, all he needed.

“I’m not saying I can fix you. I’m not saying the cure to all your problems is me giving my heart to you. I am, however, telling you that I haven’t once seen you drunk or high or anything and we basically haven’t been apart in weeks. If you want to develop healthy connections, create a community, be a person, I am more than willing to be part of it,” she said.

His heart started beating rapidly against his chest. He knew she was right. Since being with her, he hadn’t really felt the need for anything. He had physical cravings, sure, but no mental desire. Aegon didn’t want a moment with her to be a hazy memory that he may be able to recall when he's older.

“Why?” he asked her.

“Because I love you,” she said.

The weeks and months following that night, Aegon really put in the work. Y/N had made it clear to him that she was not going to just give him everything. If he wanted this, it was on him. She was only helping him.

Together, they had found a group therapy program for him. It was ran by a man who had gotten his psychology degree a few years before, but had struggled with addiction for most of his life. That was the first step, a step Aegon felt proud he had taken once he realized he didn’t feel so alone anymore.

The next step, he decided on by himself. The group program was all well and good, but he felt a need to find a deeper explanation into himself. Once a week he found himself sitting in a therapist’s office, talking about everything and nothing all at once. They spoke about his family, his self imposed isolation from them and how that lead to them cutting off, his hopes and dreams for the future.

Through this, he found out about opportunities for volunteer work in the community. He realized he quite liked working at the local secondhand store that helped people in need. He even brought her with him on the Saturdays he worked a shift, turning it into something they enjoyed together.

Even at work, he began reaching out more. If the opposite of addiction was connection, then by the gods he was going to make connections. His coworkers were enough to give him a good laugh. All of them were extremely proud of the progress he made, always encouraging him. He found that little bit alone made it easier for him to be more himself. In the conversations he was able to have with his coworkers, he talked about shows, movies, and music he liked and became friends with a few of them.

It was with this progress, along with the support Y/N provided, that Aegon found himself at the door of his family’s estate. He hadn’t been here in years. He knew all of his younger siblings still lived here. Helaena’s bright yellow VW Beetle sat parked in the driveway, Aemond’s motorcycle probably laid in parts in the garage, and Daeron had always been more content taking a town car than actually driving himself anywhere.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Y/N told him as she held his hand tightly. He had asked her to come with him so she could at least meet them. They needed to see how he had changed.

“I do have to. If for no other reason than to show them I’m not who they remember me to be,” he told her.

“Did you talk to Dr. Wilson about this? I mean, I just, I don’t want you to,” she said, trying desperately to find the right words. He silenced her with a kiss to her forehead.

“And I love you for it,” he said to her, holding her hand as tightly as she held his. “I’m okay with whatever happens in there.”

He knocked hard on the door. It wasn’t long before his mother answered. The ever looming presence of Alicent Hightower, never Targaryen, filled the entire space of the door frame. Her auburn curls were tied neatly back into a bun, her brown eyes widened in surprise.

The woman before him, despite being in her forties, showed no true signs of aging. There were no gray hairs scattered around her head, no fine lines or wrinkles. The only indication of a less than flawless appearance were the almost invisible lines that came from the outer corners of her eyes, put there by the fact that just like Aegon, her eyes would always squint up whenever she smiled.

“Aegon,” she said quietly. She looked at him like she saw a ghost.

“Hi, mom. Can we come in?” he asked her, biting his lip. Y/N gave his hand a small squeeze as if to remind him she was with him. He had her support every step of the way.

Alicent nodded silently and stepped to the side, allowing them entrance. The house was the same as the last time he was here. All of the old family photos hung on the walls of the hallway to the living room. The air smelled of cedar wood and spiced apples, giving it the perpetual scent of fall. It was warm and inviting, the plush couch so comfortable beneath him it was almost indicative of how much money his mother spent on it.

In a lot of ways, the house felt like his family. It was the epitome of warmth and love on first glance. When you looked closer, you could see how some of the picture frames were void of glass, having been broken in one family argument or another. There was a coat the hung on the same rack, day in and day out, hiding the hole where his head went through the wall in a drunken stupor. The paint on the walls were beginning to chip away, revealing the yellowing walls that proved how much his dad had liked to smoke. It was haunted, irreversibly scarred by the past.

A maid came around and asked the three of them if they wanted a drink. Alicent requested a glass of wine. Aegon noticed how surprised she looked when he just asked for a soda, like Y/N was having. He also noticed how she kept looking at his hand that held Y/N’s.

“And who is this?” She asked, nodding her head to Y/N.

“This is the woman I’m going to marry, Y/N,” he said confidently.

They hadn’t spoken about it, there wasn’t a ring on her finger. But he had no doubt in his mind that he would marry her. He was certain that she was who he was made for. The gods had her in mind when they designed him, knowing how much he would love her. She truly was his soulmate.

“And so you came to show her how terrible we all are?” she asked him, eyebrow raised. “Or did you come for money? Because you’re not getting a dime.”

“Neither,” he said firmly. “I just wanted you to see me, mom. I wanted to see you.”

She was surprised at his words. The last time he had spoken to her, he had been begging for money. Crying, begging. When she refused, trying to help him in the best way she knew how, he screamed at her about all of her faults. The last words he spoke to her was how he could only hope that he had the courage to kill himself before he turned into her.

“I’m sorry for…for everything,” he told her. “It wasn’t fair of me to blame everything on you.” Y/N squeezed his hand again. He looked down at their hands and he knew he was okay. He would be okay. “I’m like, eight months sober from everything. Not a drop of booze, no drugs. I have a full time job, I volunteer on the weekends at a secondhand store. I’m doing good, mom.”

Tears flooded to her eyes as she looked at him. Her oldest son, the first person she ever truly loved in a selfless manner. She had thought he was completely lost to her. The vicious creature he had been when they last saw each other had melted away entirely.

“Do you want to stay for dinner?” she asked him. He could only wordlessly nod, allowing her the time to stand from her chair and walk over to him. She hugged him tighter than she ever had.

He looked over Alicent’s shoulder at Y/N. The woman he loved was watching him with tears of her own, a smile on his face. She was good, too good, for him. She had opened his eyes to a reality he had been scared to face. But she had never once made him face it alone.

And that made all the difference.

[foreverrandomwritings]

Season 8 Episode 15: Lab Rats.

To say I’m absolutely fucking terrified would be an understatement. I saw the cast all posting their love to Peter(Bobby) last night and it has completely scared the shit out of me.

God Moira is truly fucking clinically insane.

Talking about how Chim is definitely gonna die while Maddie listens is insane behavior.

Bobby and Athena talking in secret code right in front of the FBI and military is top dog behavior. Fuck everyone else.

Also Buck going full blown insane chihuahua on everyone was so cute.

Hen casually hanging out on a table with a damn tube in her chest is boss bitch.

Them all playing scientist is adorable I love them.

RAVIIII NO. IF SOMETHING HAPPENS TO HIM(death) IM NEVER WATCHING AN EPISODE AGAIN(okay I will but I’ll think of him always).

I feel like I’m going to majorly regret watching this before work.

Buck:She stole it from police.

Athena:No I transferred custody.

Karen, Buck and Athena are truly a dream team.

Chim enlisting Bobby as his Maddie savior is gonna make me cry.

But Hen and Chim being separated while they are in great distress is stupidly heart wrenching.

My anxiety is truly through the roof watching this episode. If anything happens to any of them I’ll truly never recover.

Buck calling Tommy is hilarious and honestly pretty good for the plot and all. I knew Tommy had some kind of purpose.

I really wanna square up with Moria. But I also truly fully hate her because she’s Monica in The Rookie. So I really hate her.

A helicopter chase wasn’t in my bingo card for today’s episode but I’m here for it. Now Tommy being involved in not so here for it. Them having a Buck/Tommy scene. While we haven’t had any Buck/Eddie is ridiculous.

Athena calling Karen as a getaway driver is so cute. I love Karen and want her in every episode. She’s one of my favorite characters.

I’m trying to tell myself that everything is solved now since Athena has brought the cure. But there’s 12 minutes left of this episode so I know shit can still go completely ass up. Thats one thing about drama’s man they can pack a lot in just a few minutes.

Ravi sweet boy I love you so much.

Chimney taking home the rat.

WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK. BOBBY YOU DICK. “You’ll be okay, remember that. I love you kid.” SERIOUSLY? NO.

I’m full blown sobbing dude. Fuck fuck fuck. No no no no no. They wouldn’t do this right? Like they wouldn’t kill him off like this? RIGHT? RIGHT? PLEASE.

How am I going to work after this? I completely regret watching it like this.

Buck is never gonna recover from this. Especially having Eddie being so far away.

No. I really can’t do this. Bringing in Hozier for the death song? Absolutely diabolical. How dare you do this to me??